1 


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THE  SIMPLE  ADVENTURES 
OF  A  MEMSAHIB 


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o 


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X 


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H 


BY 


SARA  JEANNETTE   DUNCAN 

AUTHOR    OF 
A    SOCIAL    DEPARTURE,    AN    AMERICAN    GIRL    IN    LONDON,    ETC. 


WITH   ILLUSTRATIONS   BY    F.    H.    TOWNSEND 


NEW    YORK 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY 

1893 


xi 


^--.-  55(127 


COPTRIQHT,   1893, 

By  D.   APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


Electrotyped  and  Printed 

AT  THE   APPLETON   PrESS,  U.  S.  A. 


i 


1 


f 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIOXS. 


They  came  in  little  straggling  strings  and  bands 

Cups  of  tea 

Young  Browne's  tennis 

Her  new  field  of  labour 

Aunt  Plovtree  . 

Initial  letter 

Initial  letter      . 

Uncertain  whether  she  ought  to  bow 

"  It's  just  the  place  for  centipedes  " 

Initial  letter 

"A  very  worthy  and  hardworking  sort 
"What  is  this?"  said  Mrs.  Browne 

Chua 

An  accident  disclosed  them 

Mr.  Sayter 

Mr.  Sayter  gave  Mrs.  Browne  his  arm 

Mrs.  Lovitt       .... 

Initial  letter      .... 

The  ladies  went  most  securely 

Initial  letter     .... 

Mr.  Jonas  Batcham,  M.  P.      . 

Three  others  much  like  himself 

A  sudden  indisposition    . 

Initial  letter      . 

■  •  •  • 

Their  hats 

'  •  •  • 

Initial  letter     . 


Front 


PAOE 

ispiece 
3 


lo 
19 
24 
40 
57 
63 
08 
79 
87 
94 
96 
130 
138 
151 
150 
159 
168 
175 
187 
191 
193 
210 
214 


IV 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATJO.\S, 


f 


"Halma". 

Miss  Josephine  Lovitt      . 

Initial        .        .        .        ^ 

Mr.  Week  slept  on  a  bench 

He  stood  upon  one  leg 

Initial 

•  •  • 

Initial        .        .        .        _ 

He  nskod  nothing  of  the  Brownes 

The  snows .... 

"Liver  complications— we  nil  eoine  to  i 


t" 


She  has  fallen  into  a  way  of  crossing  her  knees 


in  a  low  cluiir 


I'AOE 
OOO 

OOft 

.  234 

.  243 

.  252 

.  2G0 

.  278 

.  282 

.  291 

.  297 

.  309 


t>AO£ 


I 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES    OF 
A    AIEMSAHIB. 


CHxVPTER   I. 


TTELEN    FRAXOES     BROWNE    was    formorly    a    Miss 
Peachey.      Xot   one  of   the   Dcvoiisliirc    l^caclieys— tliey 
are  quite  a  different  family.     This  Miss  Peachey's  fatlier  was  a 
clergyman,  who  folded  his  flock  and  his  family  in  the  town  of 
Canbury  in  Wilts,  very  nice  jieople  and  well  thought  of,  with 
nice,  well-thought-of  connections,  but  nothing  particularly  aristo- 
cratic amongst  them,  like  the  Devonshire  Peacheys,  and  no  beer. 
The  former  Miss  Peachey  is  now  a  memsahib  of  Lower  Ben- 
gal.    As  you  probably  know,  one  is  not  born  a  memsahib ;  the 
dignity  is  arrived  at  later,  through  circumstances,  processes,  and 
sometimes  through  foresight  on  the  part  of  one's  mamma.     It  is 
not  so  easy  to  obtain  as  it  used  to  be.     Formerly  it  was  a  mere 
question  of  facilities  for  transportation,  and  the  whole  matter 
was  arranged,  obviously  and  without  criticism,  by  the  operation 
of  the  law  of  supply.     The  necessary  six  months'  tossing  fortune 
in  a  sailing  ship  made  young  ladies  who  were  willing  to  under- 
take it  scarce  and  valuable,  we  hear.     We  are  even  given  to  un- 
derstand that  the  unclaimed  remnant,  the  few  standing  over  to 
be  more  deliberately  acquired,  after  the  ball  given  on  board  for 
the  facilitation  of  these  matters  the  night  succeeding  the  ship's 


I 


2  THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES  OP  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

iirriviil  ill  port,  were  licld  to  liavo  fulloii  short  of  wlmt  tlu'v  rea- 
sonably ini^lit  liavo  expected.  Hut  that  was  fifty  years  ago. 
To-day  Lower  Bengal,  in  the  cold  weather,  is  gay  witii  potential 
menisaliibs  of  all  degrees  of  attraction,  in  raiment  fresh  from 
Oxford  Street,  in  high  spirits,  in  excellent  form  for  tennis,  danc- 
ing, riding,  and  full  of  a  charmed  appreciation  of  the  "  pictur- 
esqueness"  of  India. 

They  come  from  the  East  and  from  the  West,  and  from  school 
in  (Jernumy.  They  come  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  their 
Anglo-Indian  fathers  and  mothers,  to  teach  the  JJible  aiui  plain 
sewing  in  the  Zenaiuis,  to  stay  with  a  married  sister,  to  keep 
house  for  a  brother  who  is  in  the  Department  of  Police.  In  the 
hot  weather  a  proportion  nugrate  northward,  to  Darjeeling,  or 
Simla,  in  the  Hills,  but  there  are  enough  in  our  midst  all  the 
year  round  to  produce  a  certain  coy  hesitancy  and  dalliance  on  the 
part  of  pretending  bachelors,  augmented  by  the  consideration  of 
all  that  might  be  done  in  England  in  three  months'  "  Privilege  " 
leave.  Young  Browne  was  an  example  of  this.  There  was  no 
doubt  that  young  Browne  was  tremendously  attracted  by  Miss 
Pellington — Pellington,  Scott  &  Co.,  rice  and  coolies  chiefly,  a 
very  old  firm — down  from  the  Hills  for  her  second  cold  weather, 
and  only  beginning  to  be  faintly  spoilt,  when  it  so  happened 
that  his  furlough  fell  due.  He  had  fully  intended  to  "  do  Swit- 
zerland this  time,"  but  Canbury,  with  tennis  every  Wednesday 
afternoon  at  the  Rectory,  and  Helen  Peachey  playing  there  in 
blue  and  white  striped  flannel,  pink  cheeks  and  a  sailor  hat, 
was  so  much  more  interesting  than  he  had  expected  it  to  be, 
that  Switzerland  was  gradually  relegated  five  years  into  the 
future.  After  tennis  there  was  always  tea  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  Helen,  in  the  pretty  flush  of  her  exertions,  poured  it  out. 
Just  at  first,  young  Browne  did  not  quite  know  which  he  ap- 


I 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIB.  3 

predated  most,  Helen  wlio  poured  it  out,  or  the  neat  little  maid 
in  cap  and  apron  who  brought  it  in — it  was  so  long  since  he  had 
seen  tea  brou^^ht  in  by  anything  feminine  in  cap  and  apron ;  but 


0 


GOT    MIDDLE-AGED   LADIES   OF   WILTSHIRE   CUPS   OF   TEA. 

after  a  bit  the  little  maid  sank  to  her  proper  status  of  considera- 
tion, and  Helen  was  left  supreme.  And  Helen  Peachey's  tennis, 
for  grace  and  muscularity,  was  certainly  a  thing  to  see,  young 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB, 


Browne  thought.  She  played  in  tournaments  while  lie  stood  by 
in  immaculate  whites  with  an  idle  racquet,  and  got  middle-aged 
ladies  of  Wiltshire  cups  of  tea  ;  but  she  was  not  puffed  up  about 
this,  and  often  condescended  to  be  his  partner  on  the  Kectory 
lawn  against  the  two  younger  Misses  Peachey.  It  made  the 
best  sett  that  way,  for  young  Browne's  tennis  fluctuated  from 
indifferent  bad  to  indifferent  worse,  ^'nd  the  younger  Misses 
Peachey  were  vigorous  creatures,  and  gave  Helen  all  she  could 
do  to  win  vlth  her  handicap. 

Mr.  Browne — we  must  really  get  into  the  way  of  giving  him 
his  title — was  not  naturally  prone  to  depression,  rather  the  re- 
verse; but  when  tlie  two  blisses  Peachey  came  off'  victorious  he 
used  to  be  quite  uncomfortably  gloomy  for  a  time.  Once  I 
know,  when  he  had  r*^marked  apologetically  to  Helen  that  he 
hoped  she  would  have  a  better  partner  next  time,  and  she  ab- 
sent-mindedly returned,  "  I  hope  so  indeed  ! "  his  spirits  went 
down  with  a  run  and  did  not  rise  again  until  somebody  who 
overheard,  chaffed  Helen  about  her  blunder  and  produced  gentle 
consternation  and  a  melting  appeal  for  pardon.  That  was  at  a 
very  advanced  stage  of  these  young  people's  relations,  long  after 
everybody  but  themselves  knew  exactly  what  would  happen,  and 
what  did  happen  in  the  course  of  another  week.  It  was  a 
triviality,  it  would  have  had  no  place  in  our  consideration  of 
the  affairs  of  a  young  man  and  woman  who  fell  in  love  accord- 
ing to  approved  analytical  methods,  with  subtle  silent  scruples 
and  mysterious  misunderstandings,  in  tlie  modern  Avay.  I  intro- 
duce it  on  its  merits  as  a  triviality,  to  indicate  that  George  Wil- 
liam Browne  and  Helen  Frances  Peachey  arrived  at  a  point 
where  they  considered  themselves  indispensable  to  each  other 
in  tlie  most  natural,  simple,  and  unimpeded  manner.  I  will  go 
so  far  as  to  say  that  if  Helen  had  not  been  there — if  she  had 


» 


fl 


# 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.  5 


YOUNG  Browne's  tknnis  fluctuatkd  from  indiffp:rent  had  to 

IXUIFFKRENT    WORSE. 


spent  the  summer  with  an  aunt  in  Ilampsliirc,  as  was  at  one 
time  contemplated — one  of  the  other  Misses  Peachey  might  liavo 


6  THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

inspired  this  chronicle.  But  that  is  risking  a  good  deal,  I  know, 
at  the  hands  of  the  critics,  and  especially  jierliaps  at  Helen's. 
After  all,  what  I  want  to  state  is  merely  the  felicitous  engage- 
ment, in  July  of  a  recent  year,  of  Mr.  Browne  and  Miss  Peachey. 
jj  Two  tender  months  later,  Mr.  Browne  sailed  for  India  again, 

with  a  joyful  conviction  that  he  had  done  well  to  come  home, 
that  somewhat  modified  his  natural  grief.  Helen  remained  be- 
hind for  various  reasons,  chiefly  connected  with  the  financial 
future  of  the  Browne  family,  and  the  small  part  of  Calcutta 
interested  in  young  Browne  found  occupation  for  a  few  days  in 
\  wondering  what  Miss  Pellington  would  have  said  if  he  had  pro- 

\  posed  to  her.     There  was  no  doubt  as  to  the  jioint  that  he  did 

\  not.     Calcutta  is  always  accurately  informed  upon  such  matters. 

\  The  dreary  waste  of  a  year  and  four  thousand  miles  that  lay 

I;  between  Miss  Peachey  and  the  state  of  memsahibship  was  re- 

i  lieved   and   made   interesting  in   the  usual  way  by  the  whole 

Peachey  family.      You   know  what  I   mean,  perhaps,  without 
I  details.     Miss  Kitty  Peachey  "  etched  "  Kate  Greenway  figures 

on  the  corners  of  table  napkins.  Miss  Julia  Peachey  wrought  the 
monogram  P.  M.  in  the  centre  of  pillow-shams  with  many  frills, 
their  Aunt  Plovtree,  widow  of  a  prominent  physician  of  Can- 
bury,  at  once  "  gave  up  her  time  "  to  the  adornment  of  Helen's 
future  drawing-room  in  Kensington  stitch,  and  Mrs.  Peachey 
spent  many  hours  of  hers  in  the  composition  of  letters  to  people 
like  John  Noble,  holding  general  councils  over  the  packets  of 
patterns  that  came  by  return  of  post.  Mrs.  Peachey  was  much 
occupied  also  in  receiving  the  condolences  of  friends  upon  so 
complete  a  separation  from  her  daughter,  but  I  am  bound  to  say 
that  she  accepted  them  with  a  fair  show  of  cheerfulness.  Mrs. 
Peachey  declared  that  she  would  wait  until  the  time  came  before 
she  worried.     As  to  both  the  wild  animals  and  the  climate  she 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


I 


nnderstood  that  they  were  very  much  exaggerated,  and,  indeed, 
on  account  of  Helen's  weak  throat,  she  was  quite  in  hopes  the 
heat  might  benefit  her.  And  really  nowadays,  India  wasn't  so 
very  far  away  after  all,  was  it?  It  was  difficult,  however,  even 
with  arguments  like  these,  to  reconcile  the  Canbury  ladies  to  the 
hardship  of  Helen's  fate,  especially  those  with  daughters  of  their 
own  who  had  escaped  it.  Helen  listened  to  the  condolences  with 
bright  eyes  and  a  spot  of  pink  on  each  cheek.  They  brought  her 
tender  pangs  sometimes,  but,  speaking  generally,  I  am  afraid  she 
liked  them. 

In  six  months  it  was  positively  time  to  begin  to  see  about  the 
trousseau,  because,  as  Mrs.  Plovtree  very  justly  remarked,  it  was 
not  like  getting  the  child  ready  to  be  married  in  England,  where 
one  would  know  f vom  a  pin  or  a  button  exactly  what  she  wanted ; 
in  the  case  of  Indian  trousseaux  everything  had  to  be  thought 
out  and  considered  and  time  allowed  to  get  proper  advice  in. 
For  instance,  there  was  that  very  thing  they  were  talking  about 
yesterday — that  idea  of  getting  Jaeger  all  through  for  Helen. 
It  seemed  advisable,  but  who  knew  definitehj  whether  it  was ! 
And  if  there  was  an  unsatisfactory  thing  in  Mrs.  Plovtree's 
opinion  it  was  putting  off  anything  whatever,  not  to  speak  of  an 
important  matter  like  this,  till  the  last  moment. 

The  event  redounded  to  the  wisdom  of  Mrs.  Plovtree,  as 
events  usually  did.  It  took  the  Peachey  family  quite  six  months 
to  collect  reliable  information  and  construct  a  trousseau  for 
Helen  out  of  it;  six  months  indeed,  as  Mrs.  Peachey  said,  seemed 
too  little  to  give  to  it.  They  collected  a  great  deal  of  infoima- 
tion.  Mrs.  Peachey  wrote  to  everybody  she  knew  who  had  ever 
been  in  India  or  had  relations  there,  and  so  did  several  friends  of 
the  Peacheys,  and  the  results  could  not  have  been  mere  gratify- 
ing either  in  bulk  or  in  variety.     As  their  Aunt  Plovtree  said. 


i     It 


8  THE    SIMPI.F,    ADVENTURES   OF  A    AT  EM  SAHIB. 

they  really  could  not  luivc  asked  for  nioro,  indeed  they  would 
have  had  less  dillleulty  in  making  up  their  minds  witnout  quite 
so  much.  "  />o  be  advised,"  one  lady  wrote,  with  impressive  un- 
derlinings,  ''and  let  her  take  as  little  as  she  ciin  jws.s'b/i/  do  witli. 
It  is  impossible  to  keep  good  dresses  in  India,  the  climate  is 
simple  ruinatioii  to  them.  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  year  of 
my  married  life  on  that  account.  It  was  a  heart-hnutkiucj  ex- 
perience, and  1  do  hope  that  Helen  may  avoid  it.  Besides,  the 
durzics,  tlie  native  dressmakers,  will  coi)y  a/i/jf/n/if/,  and  do  it 
wondcrftdit/  well,  at  about  a  fifth  of  the  price  one  pays  at  home." 
Which  read  very  convincingly.  By  the  same  post  a  second 
cousin  of  Mrs.  Plovtree's  wrote,  "  If  you  ask  me,  I  should  say 
make  a  special  point  of  having  everything  in  reasonable  abun- 
dance. The  European  shops  ask  frightful  prices,  the  natives 
are  always  unsatisfactory,  and  your  niece  will  find  it  very  incon- 
venient to  send  to  England  for  things.  My  plan  was  to  buy  as 
little  as  possible  in  India,  and  lay  in  supplies  when  we  came 
home  on  leave  I  " 

"  In  the  face  of  that,"  said  Mrs.  Plovtree,  "  what  are  we  to 
do?" 

Ladies  wrote  that  Helen  would  require  as  warm  a  ward- 
robe as  in  England ;  the  cold  might  not  be  so  great  but  she 
would  "feel  it  more."  She  must  take  her  furs,  by  all  means. 
They  wrote  also  that  when  they  were  in  India,  they  wore  noth- 
ing more  substantial  than  nun's  veiling,  and  a  light  jacket  the 
year  round.  They  gave  her  intense  directions  about  her  shoes 
and  slippers — it  was  impossible  to  get  nice  ones  in  India — they 
I  were  made  very  well  and  cheaply  in  the  "  China  bazar  " — they 

'  lasted  for  ever  if  one  took  care  of  them — they  were  instantly 

\  destroyed   by  mould  and  cockroaches  when  "  the  nuns "  came 

I  on.     She  would  require  a  size  larger  than  usual,  on  account  of 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEiXTUKES   OF  A    MEMSAIlIli. 


we  to 


tlic  heat ;  she  must  remember  to  take  a  size  smaller  beeauso  she 
would  use  her  feet  so  little  that  they  would  decrease  souiewhat, 
everybody's  did.  She  must  bear  oue  thiug  in  mind,  they  were 
([uite  two  years  behind  the  fashion  in  India,  so  that  it  would  bo 
advisable  to  date  her  garments  back  a  little,  not  to  be  remark- 
al)le.  In  another  opinion  there  was  this  advantage,  that  in  tak- 
ing a  fashionable  trousseau  to  ^ndia,  one  could  rely  upon  its 
being  the  correct  thing  for  at  least  two  years.  The  directions  in 
ilannel,  and  cotton,  and  linen,  were  too  complicated  for  precise 
detail,  but  they  left  equal  freedom  of  choice.  And  choice  was 
dittlcult,  because  these  ladies  were  all  ex-memsahibs,  retired 
after  fifteen,  twenty,  or  twenty-five  years'  honmirable  service,  all 
equally  ([ualificd  to  warn  and  to  instruct,  and  equally  anxious  to 
do  it.  They  had  lived  in  somewhat  different  localities  in  India, 
ranging  from  seven  to  seven  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
sea,  in  the  Northwest  provinces,  in  the  Punjaub,  in  Southern 
India,  in  Beluchistan,  and  none  of  them  had  spent  more  than  an 
occasional  "  cold  weather  "  in  Calcutta,  but  this  triviality  escaped 
the  attention  of  the  Peachey  family,  in  dealing  with  the  matter. 
India,  to  their  imagination,  was  incapable  of  subdivision,  a  vast 
sandy  area  filled  with  heathen  and  fringed  with  cocoanut  trees, 
which  drew  a  great  many  young  Englishmen  away  from  their 
homes  and  their  families  for  some  occult  purpose  connected  with 
drawing  pay  in  rupees.  So  the  Peacheys  put  these  discrepancies 
down  to  the  fact  that  people  had  such  different  ideas,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  arrange  Helen's  trousseau  upon  a  modification  of  all 
of  them.  "When  this  was  quite  done  Mrs.  Plovtree  remarked 
with  some  surprise  that  with  the  addition  of  a  few  muslin  frocks, 
the  child  had  been  fitted  out  almost  exactly  as  if  she  were  going 
to  live  in  England.  There  was  the  wedding  dress,  which  she 
might  or  might  not  wear  upon  the  occasion,  it  would  be  indis- 


10         THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

pensable  ^///<?rwards ;  tliere  was  the  travelling  dress  chosen  pri- 
marily not  to  "take  the  dust"  and  secondarily  not  to  show  it; 
two  or  three  gowns  of  incipient  dignity  for  dinner  parties ;  two 
or  three  more  of  airier  sorts  for  balls — but  at  this  point  I  must 
refer  you  to  the  ladies'  papers.  Turn  over  a  few  of  their  pages 
and  you  will  see  Helen's  trousseau  illustrated  with  skill  and 
imagination,  but  with  trains,  I  am  bound  to  add,  more  prehen- 
sile than  Helen  ever  wore,  the  habit  of  the  Peachey  fanuly 
being  to  follow  the  fashions  at  a  safe  and  unaggressive  distance. 
Among  the  photographs  of  the  brides  which  accompany  you 
may  even  find  one  fairly  like  Helen.  These  young  ladies  have 
always  struck  me  as  bearing  a  charmingly  subdued  resemblance 
jj  to  one  another,  probably  induced  by  the  similarly  trying  condi- 

tions under  which  their  portraits  are  published.  And  certainly 
in  the  lists  of  present  appended  you  will  find  many,  if  not  all 
of  those  that  the  Rev.  Peachey  packed  with  his  own  clerical 
hands  in  large  'vooden  boxes,  for  consignment  to  the  P.  and  0., 
indeed  \  f  incy  a  discriminating  inspection  of  the  advertisements 
would  reveal  most  of  them.  As  the  Rev.  Peachey  himself  would 
say,  I  need  n;>l  go  into  that. 

Helen  was  the  first  bride  that  Canbury  had  contributed  to 
India,  in  the  social  memory.  Two  or  three  young  men  had 
gone  forth  to  be  brokers'  assistants  or  civil  servants  or  bank 
clerks,  and  an  odd  red-coat  turned  up  periodically  in  the  lower 
stratum  of  society  on  furlough,  bringing  many-armed  red  and 
yellow  idols  to  its  female  relatives;  but  Canbury  had  no  femi- 
nine connections  with  India,  the  only  sort  which  are  really 
binding.  Helen's  engagement  had  an  extrinsic  interest  there- 
fore, as  well  as  the  usual  kind,  and  Canbury  made  the  most  of 
it.  There  was  the  deplorable  fact,  to  begin  with,  that  she  could 
not  be  married  at  home.     Canbury  gave  a  dubious  assent  to  its 


IB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A   MEMSAIIIH. 


II 


losen  pri- 
>  show  it ; 
[•ties ;  two 
lit  I  must 
leir  pages 

skill  and 
e  prehen- 
ey  family 
3  distance, 
ipany  you 
idies  have 
semblance 
ing  condi- 
i  certainly 

if  not  all 
s\\  clerical 
P.  and  0., 
rtisements 
self  would 

ributed  to 
men  had 
s  or  bank 
the  lower 
d  red  and 
1  no  femi- 
are  really 
'est  there- 
e  most  of 
she  could 
lent  to  its 


necessity  ;  everybody  had  a  dim  understanding  of  the  oxigencies 
of  "  leave,"  and  knew  the  theory  that  such  departures  from  the 
orthodox  and  usual  form  of  nuitrimonial  proceeding  were  com- 
mon and  unavoidable.  Yet  in  its  heart  and  out  of  the  Poachey 
and  Plovtree  earshot,  Canbury  firmly  dissented,  not  without 
criticism.  Would  anybody  tell  it  why  they  had  not  gone  out 
together  last  year?  On  the  face  of  it,  there  could  be  no  ques- 
tion of  saving.  The  young  man  was  not  in  debt,  and  received  a 
salary  of  five  hundred  pounds  a  year — had  not  Mr.  Peachey's 
curate  married  Jennie  Plovtree  a  month  after  they  were  engaged 
on  two  hundred,  and  no  expectations  whatever !  Or  wliy,  since 
they  had  made  up  their  minds  to  wait,  could  they  not  have  put 
it  off  another  year !  Surely  in  two  years  Mr.  Browne  might 
scrape  enough  together  to  come  home  again !  Canbury  thought 
it  possessed  a  slight  opinion  of  a  young  man  who  could  not  come 
after  his  wife.  Privately  Canbury  upheld  the  extremest  tradi- 
tions of  chivalry,  and  various  among  Miss  Peachey's  young  lady 
friends,  quite  unconscious  of  fibbing,  confided  to  each  other  that 
"they  wouldn't  be  in  Helen's  place  for  anything."  In  the 
rectory  drawing-room,  however,  these  stringencies  took  a  smiling 
face  and  a  sympathetic  form,  sometimes  disappearing  altogether 
in  the  exaltation  of  the  subject's  general  aspects.  Helen  was 
told  it  was  very  "  brave  "  of  her,  and  Mrs.  Peachey  was  admired 
for  her  courage  in  letting  her  daughter  go.  At  which  she  and 
Helen  smiled  into  each  other's  eyes  understand ingly.  Then 
Canbury  began  to  search  the  aforesaid  advertisements  in  the 
ladies'  papers  for  mementoes  suitable  in  character  and  price, 
and  to  send  them  to  the  rectory  with  as  hearty  wishes  for  the 
happiness  of  the  future  Brownes  as  if  they  had  behaved  properly 
in  every  respect. 


12 


tub:  simple  adventures  oe  a  memsaiiid. 


CHAPTER  11. 


rp^O  Mrs.  Peachey,  one  very  consoling  circumstance  connected 


T' 


with  Helen's  going  to  India  was  the  good  she  would  prob- 
ably be  able  to  do  to  "  those  surrounding  her."  Helen  had  al- 
ways been  "  active "  at  home ;  she  had  been  the  inspiration  of 
work-parties,  the  life  and  soul  of  penny-readings.  She  often 
took  the  entire  superintendence  of  the  night  school.  The  Can- 
bury  branch  of  the  Y.  W.  C.  T.  U.  did  not  know  how  it  should 
get  on  without  her.  Besides  playing  the  organ  of  St.  Stephen's, 
in  which,  however,  another  Miss  Peachey  was  by  this  time  ready 
to  succeed  her.  Much  as  Mrs.  Peachey  and  the  parish  would 
miss  Helen,  it  was  a  sustaining  thought  that  she  was  going 
amongst  those  whose  need  of  her  was  so  much  greater  than 
Canbury's.  Mrs.  Peachey  had  private  chastened  visions,  chiefly 
on  Sunday  afternoons,  of  Helen  in  her  new  field  of  labor.  Mrs. 
Peachey  was  not  destitute  of  imagination,  and  she  usually  pic- 
tured Helen  seated  under  a  bread-fruit  tree  in  her  Indian 
garden,  dressed  in  white  muslin,  teaching  a  circle  of  little 
"  blacks  "  to  read  the  Scriptures.  Helen  was  so  successful  with 
children ;  and  so  far  as  being  tempted  to  its  ultimate  salvation 
with  goodies  was  concerned,  a  black  child  was  probably  just  like 
a  white  one.  Of  course,  Helen  would  have  to  adapt  her  induce- 
ments to  circumstances — it  was  not  likely  that  a  little  Bengali 
could  be  baited  with  a  Bath  bun.  Doubtless  she  would  have  to 
offer  them  rice  or — what  else  was  it  they  liked  so  much  ? — oh 


HIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


13 


connected 
)uld  2;)rob- 
en  had  al- 
•iration  of 
*ihe   often 
The  Can- 
it  should 
Stephen's, 
ime  ready 
sh  would 
v'as  going 
ater  than 
IS,  chiefly 
or.     Mrs. 
lally  pic- 
r  Indian 
of  little 
sful  with 
salvation 
just  like 
*  induce- 
Bengali 
have  to 
ch  ?— oh 


yes!  sugar-cane.  Over  the  form  of  these  delicacies  Mrs.  Peachey 
usually  went  to  sleep,  to  dream  of  larger  scliomes  of  heathen 
emancipation  which  Helen  should  inaugunite.  Mr.  Peachey, 
who  knew  how  hard  the  human  heart  could  be,  even  in  Can- 
bury,  among  an  enlightened  people  enjoying  all  the  blessings  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  was  not  so  .ianguine.  lie  said  he  be- 
lieved these  Hindus  were  very  subtle-minded,  and  Helen  was  not 
much  at  an  argument.  He  understood  they  gave  able  theolo- 
gians very  hard  nuts  to  crack.  Their  ideas  were  entirely  dilTer- 
ent  from  ours,  and  Helen  would  be  obliged  to  master  their  ideas 
before  effecting  any  very  radical  change  in  them.  He  was  afraid 
there  would  be  difficulties. 

Mrs.  Plovtree  settled  the  whole  question.  Helen  was  not 
going  out  as  a  missionary,  except  in  so  far  as  that  every  woman 
who  married  undertook  the  charge  of  one  heathen,  and  she 
could  not  expect  to  jump  into  work  of  that  sort  all  at  once.  lie- 
sides,  the  people  were  so  difficult  to  get  at,  all  shut  up  in 
zenanas  and  places.  And  she  did  not  know  the  language ;  first 
of  all,  she  would  have  to  conquer  the  language  ;  not  that  it  would 
take  Helen  long,  for  see  what  she  did  in  French  and  German  at 
school  in  less  than  a  year!  For  her  part,  she  would  advise 
Helen  to  try  to  do  very  little  at  first — to  begin,  say,  with  her 
own  servants;  she  would  have  a  number  of  them,  and  they 
would  be  greatly  under  her  personal  influence  and  control.  Mrs. 
Plovtree  imparted  an  obscure  idea  of  Helen's  responsibility  for 
the  higher  welfare  of  her  domestics,  and  a  more  evident  one 
that  it  would  be  rather  a  good  thing  to  practice  on  them,  that 
they  would  afford  convenient  and  valuable  material  for  experi- 
ments. In  all  of  which  Mrs.  Peachey  thoughtfully  acquiesced, 
though  in  fancy  she  still  allowed  herself  to  picture  Helen  lead- 
ing in  gentle  triumph  a  train  of  Rajahs  to  the  bosom  of  the 


14 


THE   SIMri.E   ADVKXTl'RES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


If    ' 


!;■       '- 

Church — ii  train  of  nice  liajuiis,  clean  and  savoury.  That,  as  I 
have  said,  was  always  on  Sunday  afternoons.  On  the  secular 
days  of  the  week  they  discussed  other  matters,  non-spiritual,  and 
persoiud,  to  which  they  were  able  to  bring  more  delinitcness  of 
perspective,  and  they  found  a  great  deal  to  say. 

A  friend  of  young  Browne's  had  gone  home  opportunely  on 
six  months'  leave,  and  his  recently  acquired  little  wife  would  be 
"delighted,"  she  said,  to  wreak  her  new-found  dignity  upon 
Helen  in  the  capacity  of  chaperone  for  the  voyage  out.  IJut  for 
this  happy  circumstance,  Helen's  transportation  would  have  pre- 
sented a  serious  ditlicultv,  for  the  Peachevs  were  out  of  the  way 
of  knowing  the  ever-ilowing  and  returning  tide  of  Anglo-Indians 
that  find  old  friends  at  Cheltenham  and  take  lodgings  in  Ken- 
sington, and  1111  their  brief  holiday  with  London  theatres  and 
shopping.  As  it  was,  there  was  great  congratulation  among 
the  Peacheys,  and  they  hastened  to  invite  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mac- 
donald  to  spend  a  short  time  at  the  rectory  before  the  day  on 
which  the  ship  sailed.  ^Irs.  Macdonald  was  extremely  sorry  that 
they  couldn't  come;  nothing  would  have  given  them  more  pleas- 
ure, but  they  had  so  many  engagements  with  old  friends  of  her 
husbaiul's,  and  the  time  was  getting  so  short  and  they  had  such 
a  quantity  of  things  to  do  in  London  before  they  sailed,  that— 
the  Peacheys  must  resign  themselves  to  disappointment.  Mrs. 
Macdonald  hoped  that  they  would  all  meet  on  board  the  Kite- 
dive,  but  held  out  very  faint  hopes  of  making  acquaintance 
sooner  than  that.  It  was  a  bright  agreeable  letter  as  the  one  or 
two  that  came  before  had  been,  but  it  left  them  all  in  a  difficulty 
to  conjure  up  Mrs.  Macdonald,  and  unitedly  they  lamented  the 
necessity.  What  Mr.  Macdonald  was  like,  as  Mrs.  Plovtree  ob- 
served,  being  of  no  consequence  whatever.  But  it  was  absolute, 
and  not  until  the  Aliedive  was  within  an  hour  of  weighing  an- 


IIIB. 

TJiat,  as  I 
the  seciiliir 
iritual,  and 
nitcness  of 

rtuncly  on 
3  would  be 
nity   upon 
.     J3ut  for 
have  })re- 
)f  tlie  way 
lo-Iiidians 
:s  in  Ken- 
?atres  and 
n  among 
^Ii-s.  Mac- 
lie  day  on 
5orry  that 
ore  pleas- 
ds  of  her 
had  such 
d,  tliat — 
It.     Mrs. 
the  Khc- 
aintance 
le  one  or 
lifRculty 
ited  the 
tree  ob- 
ibsohite, 
ling  an- 


i6 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXrURES  OF  A    MEMSAHIR, 


I      1 


chor  at  tlio  Hoyiil  Albert  Docks,  did  the  assombled  Peaclieys,  for- 
lorn on  the  main  deck  in  the  midst  of  Helen's  boxes,  ^et  a 
^dimpse  of  Airs.  Macdonald.  Then  it  was  ))rief.  One  of  the 
stewards  pointed  ont  the  I'eachey  group  to  a  very  young  lady  in  a 
very  tight-litting  tailor-made  dress,  swinging  an  ulster  over  her 
arm,  who  a2)])roachc'd  them  briskly  with  an  outstretched  hand  and 
a  businesslike  little  smile.  "  I  think  you  must  be  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Peachey,"  slie  said  ;  "  I  am  Mrs.  Macdonald.  And  where  is  the 
young  lady?"  Mr.  Peachey  unbent  the  back  of  his  neck  in  the 
clerical  manner,  and  Mrs.  Peachey  indicated  Helen  as  well  as  she 
could  in  the  suffusion  of  the  moment,  taking  farewell  counsels  cf 
her  sisters  with  pink  eyelids.  "  But  you  mustn't  mind  her  go- 
ing, Mrs.  Peachey  !  "  Mrs.  Macdonald  went  on  vivaciously,  shak- 
ing hands  with  the  group,  "  she  will  be  sure  to  like  it.  Every- 
body likes  it.  /  am  devoted  to  India !  She'll  soon  get  accus- 
tomed to  everything,  and  then  she  won't  want  to  come  home — 
that's  the  way  it  was  with  me.  I  dare  say  you  won't  believe  it, 
but  I'm  dying  to  get  back  !  You've  seen  your  cabin?"  slie  de- 
manded of  Helen,  "  is  it  forward  or  aft  ?  Are  you  port  or  star- 
board?" 

The  Peacheys  opened  their  eyes  respectfully  at  this  nau- 
tical proficiency,  and  Helen  said  she  was  afraid  she  didn't 
know,  it  was  down  some  stairs  and  one  turned  to  the  left, 
toward  the  end  of  a  long  passage,  and  then  to  the  right  into  a 
little  corner. 

"  Oh,  then  you're  starboard  and  a  little  forward  of  the 
engines  ! "  Mrs.  Macdonald  declared.  "  Very  lucky  you  are  ! 
You'll  have  your  port  open  far  oftener  than  we  will — we're 
weather-side  and  almost  directly  over  the  screw.  So  much  for 
not  taking  one's  passage  till  three  weeks  before  sailing — and 
very  fortunate  we  were  to  get  one  at  all,  the  agent  said.     We 


I  I 


I 


y//A  V              yyyy,    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB.         17 

c'licys,  for-  \i\\s^.  tlio  place  to  ourselves  though,  one  can  generally   manage 

xes,  get  a  that  bv  paying  for  it  you  know— one  comfort!     How  numy  in 

neof   the  I  your  cabin?" 

\  J'l'ly  i'»  n  "Three  of  us  !"  Helen  responded  apprehensively,  "and  it  i» 

'*^<'''  lier  g,,,.),  ^  little  one!     And  the  one  whose  name  is  Stitoh  has  piled 

hand  and  all  }u.r  rugs  and  portnumteaux  on  my  bed,  and  there's  nowhere 

and  Afrs.  ••  to  put  mine  !" 

lere  is  the  A       "Oh,  tiie  cabins  in  this  ship  are  not  small,"  returned   Mrs. 

'<^'k  in  the  Macdonald    with   seriousness.     "She's   got   a   heavy   cargo  and 

ell  as  she  they're  pretty  low  in  the  water,  if  you  like,  i)ut  they're  not  snudl. 

)unsels  of  ^Vait  till  you  get  used  to  it  a  little!     As  to  Madain  Stitch,  just 

d  her  go-  pop  her  bags  and  things  on  the  floor — don't  hesitate  a  moment, 

•^ly,  siiak-  One  must  assert  one's  rights  on  shipboard — it's  positively  the 

^^■^'^7"  only  way  !     But  there  are  some  people  to  see  me  oit — I  must 

et  accus-  fly!"     She  gave  them  a  brisk  nod  and  was  on  the  wing  to  her 

home —  friends   when    ^[rs.  Peachey   put  a  hand  on  her  arm.     "You 

lelieve  it,  |  spoke  of  the  ship's  being  low  in    the  water,  Mrs.   Macdonald. 

^^^  de-  I  You  don't  think— you  don't  think  there  is  any  danger  on  that 

or  star-  |  account?" 

Little  Mrs.  Macdonald  stopped  to  enjoy  her  laugh.     "  Oh 

lis  nau-  ^  dear,  no ! "  she  said  with  vast  amusement,  "  rather  the  other 

didn't  M way  I  should  think — and  we'll  be  a  great  deal  steadier  for  it!" 

^e   left,  MThen   she  went,  and   the   Peacheys  saw  her  in   the  confused 

^  "ito  a  J  distance  babbling  as  gaily  in  the  midst  of  her  new-comers  as 

if  a  thought  of  the  responsibilities  of  chaperonage  had  never 

^^  ^he  ^  entered  her  head. 

^^  are !  9|       "  Helen,  I  believe  you  are  older  than  she  is ! "   exclaimed 

we're  '\m  the  youngest  Miss  Peachey. 

uch  for  %       "  I  don't  like  her,"  remarked  the  second  succinctly.     "  She 

% — and  jl  giggles  and  she  gabbles.     Helen,  I  wish  some  of  u>i  were  going 

I.     We  J  with  you." 


I8 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB, 


"  She  doesn't  seem  to  mind  travelling,"  said  the  Miss 
Peachey  with  the  prospective  claim  to  the  title. 

"Dear  me,,  Helen!"  began  Mrs.  Peachey  almost  dolorously, 
"she — she  seems  very  bright,"  changing  her  comment.  After 
all  they  must  make  the  best  of  it.  The  Rev.  Peachey  clasped 
his  stick  behind  his  back,  and  tapped  the  deck  with  it,  saying 
nothing,  with  rather  a  pursing  of  his  wide  shaven  lips,  Helen 
looked  after  Mrs.  Macdonald  helplessly,  and  her  family  ex- 
changed glances  in  which  that  lady  might  have  read  deprecia- 
tion. 

"  Your  roll-up,  Helen  ? "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Peachey. 

"  Here,  mamma." 

"  You  have  seven  small  pieces,  remember !  Have  you  got 
your  keys?  Are  you  sure  you  are  dressed  warmly  enough ?  It 
will  be  some  time  before  you  get  to  India,  you  know!"  Mrs. 
Peachey  had  suffered  an  accession  of  anxiety  in  the  last  ten 
minutes. 

They  stood  looking  at  each  other  in  the  common  misery  of 
coming  separation,  casting  about  for  last  words  and  finding 
none  of  any  significance,  for  people  do  not  anticipate  an  event 
for  a  whole  year  without  exhausting  themselves  on  the  topic 
of  it.  Helen  would  keep  a  little  diary;  she  would  post  it  at 
Gibraltar,  Naples,  Port  Said,  and  Colombo;  and  they  were  to 
write  overland  to  Naples,  and  by  the  next  mail  to  Calcutta, 
which  would  reach  before  she  did.  These  time-worn  arrange- 
ments were  made  over  again.  Helen  thought  of  a  last  affec- 
tionate message  to  her  Aunt  Plovtree  and  was  in  the  act  of 
wording  it,  when  a  steward  with  a  yellow  envelope  inquired  of 
them  for  "any  lady  by  the  name  of  Peachey."  The  contents 
of  the  yellow  envelope  had  telegraphic  brevity.  "  Good-bye  and 
God   bless  you !    J.  Plovtree."     Helen  read,  and   immediately 


AHIB. 

J    tlie    Miss 

t  dolorously, 
lent.  After 
?hey  clasped 
th  it,  saying 
lips,  Helen 
family  ex- 
id  deprecia- 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


19 


ive  you  got 
enough  ?  It 
ow!"  Mrs. 
;he  last  ten 

n  misery  of 
md   finding 
te  an  event 
the  topic 
post  it  at 
ley  were  to 
0  Calcutta, 
n  arrange- 
last  affec- 
the  act  of 
inquired  of 
le  contents 
od-bye  and 
n  mediately 


ok  out  her  handkerchief  again.  "Just  like  Jane!"  said  Mrs. 
Pcachey,  sadly,  with  her  eyes  full,  and  Mr.  Peachey,  to  cover 
his  emotion  read  aloud  the  hours  at  which  the  messjige  had 
l)een    received   and   delivered. 

Forty-two    minutes"  he  an- 

ounced       "  fairly      quick  !  " 

elen  proposed  a  walk  on  the 
uarter-dec^:.      "  The  luggage, 

y  dear  child ! "  ^Irs.  Peach- 
ey  cried.  "  We  mustn't  leave 
the  luggage,  with  all  these 
people  about !  James,  dear, 
it  would  not  be  safe  to  leave 
the  luggage,  would  it !  You 
and  the  girls  may  go,  Helen. 
Your  father  and  I  will  stay 
here." 

"Oh,  no!"  Helen  re- 
turned reproachfully,  and 
clung  to  them  all. 

The  crowd  on  the  deck 
increased  and  grew  noisier, 
people  streamed  up  and  down 
the  wide  gangway.  Cabin 
luggage  came  rattling  down 
in  cabs,  perilously  late,  the 
arm  of  the  great  steam-crane 
swung  load  after  load  high  in 
|air  itiid  lowered  it  into  the  hold,  asserting  its  own  right  of 
way.  "That's  one  of  your  tin-lined  boxes,  Helen,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Peachey,  intent   on  the  lightening  of  the  last  load,  "  and 


AUNT    PLOVTREE. 


20         THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

oh,  I'm  sure  it  is  not  safe,  dear !  James  won't  you  call  to 
them  that  it  is  not  safe  !  "  But  the  long  deal  case  with  "  Miss 
Peachey,  Calci'TTa,"  in  big  black  letters  on  it  was  already 
describing  an  arc  over  the  heads  of  the  unwary,  and  as  it 
found  its  haven  Mrs.  Peachey  made  a  statement  of  excited  re- 
lief, "  I  never  saw  such  carelessness  !  "  said  she. 

A  number  of  ladies,  dressed  a  good  deal  alike,  arrived  upon 
the  deck  in  company  and  took  up  a  position  near  the  forward 
part  of  the  ship,  where  the  second  class  passengers  were  gathered 
together,  producing  little  black  books.  From  these  they  began 
to  sing  with  smiling  faces  and  great  vigour,  various  hymns,  with 
sentiments  appropriate  to  long  voyages,  danger,  and  exile  from 
home.  It  was  a  parting  attention  from  their  friends  to  a  num- 
ber of  young  missionaries  for  Burmah,  probably  designed  to 
keep  up  their  spirits.  The  hymns  were  not  exclusively  of  any 
church  or  creed — Moody  and  Sankey  contributed  as  many  of 
them  as  the  Ancient  and  Modern^  but  they  were  all  lustily  emo- 
tional and  befitting  the  occasion  to  the  most  unfortunate  de- 
gree. The  departing  missionaries  stood  about  in  subdued 
groups  and  tried  to  wave  their  handkerchiefs.  One  or  two 
young  lady  missionaries  found  refuge  in  their  cabins  where  they 
might  sob  comfortably.  The  notes  rang  high  and  bathed  the 
whole  ship  in  elegy,  plaintively  fell  and  reveled  in  the  general 
wreck  of  spirits  and  affectation  of  hilarity.  It  began  to  rain 
a  little,  but  the  ladies  were  all  provided  with  umbrellas,  and 
under  them  sang  on. 


*& 


"  While  the  nearer  waters  roll, 
While  the  tempest  still  is  high." 

"  What   idiots  they  are ! "  remarked    the    youngest    plain- 
spoken  Miss  Peachey  when  it  became  impossible  to  ignore  the 


HIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


21 


Oil   call    to 
I'ith  "  Miss 
i'as  already 
and   as  it 
excited  re- 
rived  upon 
lie  forward 
'e  gatliered 
they  began 
)^mns,  with 
exile  from 
to  a  num- 
esigned   to 
ely  of  any 
3  many  of 
istily  emo- 
tunate  de- 
subdued 
le   or   two 
here  they 
lathed  the 
le  general 
\\   to  rain 
ellas,  and 


st    plain- 
■nore  the 


effect  upon  Helen's  feelings  any  longer.  "  As  if  they  couldn't 
find  anything  else  to  sing  than  that !  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear^''  rebuked  Mrs.  Peachey,  drying  her  eyes,  "  we 
may  be  sure  that  their  motive  is  everything  that  is  good." 
Whereat  the  youngest  Miss  Peachey,  unsubdued,  muttered  "  Mo- 
tive r' 

"  n'all  this  for  the  cabin,  miss  ?  "  asked  a  steward,  grasping 
a  hat-box  and  a  portmanteau.  "I  don't  quite  know  'ow  that 
there  lonrj  box  is  a-going  in,  miss.  Is  it  accordin'  to  the  Com- 
jumy's  regillations,  miss?"  Mr.  Peachey  interposed,  with  dig- 
nity, and  said  that  it  was — the  precise  measurements.  It  came 
from  the  Army  and  Navy  Stores,  he  was  quite  sure  the  size  was 
correct.  The  man  still  looked  dubious,  but  when  Helen  said, 
regardless  of  measurements,  that  she  must  have  it,  that  it  con- 
tained nearly  everything  she  wanted  for  the  voyage,  he  shoul- 
dered it  without  further  dissent.  He  was  accustomed  to  this 
ultimatum  of  seafaring  ladies,  and  bowed  to  it. 

Mrs.  Peachey  began  to  think  that  they  ought  to  go  down  to 
tlie  cabin  and  stay  beside  the  luggage,  there  were  so  many  odd- 
looking  people  about ;  but  she  succumbed  to  the  suggestion  of 
being  carried  off;  and  they  all  went  up  on  the  quarter-deck. 
Mrs.  Macdonald  was  there — they  might  see  something  more  of 
Mrs.  Macdonald.     They  clung  to  the  hope. 

They  did  see  something  more  of  Mrs.  Macdonald — a  little. 
She  interrupted  herself  and  her  friends  long  enough  to  approach 
the  Peacheys  and  ask  if  all  Helen's  luggage  was  on  board,  "  wed- 
ding presents  and  all?"  jocularly.  Mrs.  Peachey  replied  fer- 
vently that  she  hoped  so,  and  Mrs.  Macdonald  said.  Oh,  that  was 
all  right  then,  and  Was  she  a  good  sailor?  Oh,  well,  she  would 
soon  get  over  it.  And  oh,  by  the  by — departing  to  her  beckon- 
ing friends  again — it  was  all  right  about  their  seats  at  table — 


.^ 


22         THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

Miss  Peacliey  was  to  sit  by  them — she  had  seen  the  head  stew- 
ard and  he  said  there  would  be  no  difficulty.  Having  thus  re- 
assured them,  "  I'll  see  you  again,"  said  Mrs.  Macdonald,  and 
noddingly  departed. 

The  first  whistle  shrilled  and  bellowed,  and  a  parting  stir  re- 
sponded to  it  all  over  the  ship.     Mrs.  Peachey  looked  agitated, 
1  and  laid  a  hand  on  Helen's  arm.     "  There  is  no  cause  for  haste, 

mamma,"  said  the  Rev.  Peachey,  looking  at  his  watch.  "  We 
have  still  twenty  minutes,  and  there  is  a  quantity  of  freight  yet 
to  be  got  on  board."     The  missionary  ladies  began  a  new  hymn, 


'1    !l 


I         \ 


"  Oh,  think  of  the  friends  over  there  ! " 


it                         "  Only  twenty  minutes,  my  love !     Then  I  think  we  ought 
really  to  be  getting  off !     My  darling  child " 


The  whistle  blew  again  stertorously,  and  the  gangway  began 
to  throng  with  friends  of  the  outward-bound.  The  dear,  tender, 
human-hearted  Peacheys  clustered  about  the  girl  they  were  giv- 
ing up — the  girl  who  was  going  from  their  arms  and  their  fire- 
side an  infinite  distance,  to  a  land  of  palm-trees  and  yams,  to 
marry — and  what  a  lottery  marriage  was ! — a  young  Browne. 
They  held  her  fast,  each  in  turn.  "  I  almost  w-wish  I  w-weren't 
go — "  sobbed  Helen  in  her  mother's  embraces.  "  Helen  !  "  said 
the  youngest  Miss  Peachey  sternly,  with  a  very  red  nose,  "  you 
do  nothing  of  the  sort!  You're  only  too  pleased  and  proud  to 
go,  and  so  should  I  be  in  your  place ! "  Which  rebuke  revived 
Helen's  loyalty  to  her  Browne  if  it  did  not  subdue  the  pangs 
with  which  she  hugged  her  sister. 

At  las:  the  gangway  was  withdrawn  and  all  the  Peacheys 
were  on  the  other  side  of  it.  It  rained  faster,  the  missionary 
ladies  still  sang  on,  people  called  last  words  to  their  friends  in 
the  damp  crowd  below.     A  box  of  sweets  was  thrown  to  a  young 


\HIB. 

J  head  stew- 
ing thus  rc- 
douald,  and 

ting  stir  re- 
ed agitated, 
le  for  haste, 
itch.  "  We 
freight  yet 
new  hymn. 


:  we  ought 

way  began 
ear,  tender, 
S  were  giv- 

their  fire- 
cl  yams,  to 
\  Browne, 
w-weren't 
en ! "  said 
lose,  "  you 

proud  to 
c:e  revived 
the  pangs 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


23 


lady  on  tlie  main  deck — it  dropped  into  the  black  water  between 
the  sliip  and  tlie  wharf  and  was  fished  out  with  great  excite- 
ment. The  Pcaclieys  gathered  in  a  knot  under  their  several 
umbrellas,  and  Helen  stood  desolately  by  herself  watching  them, 
laow  and  then  exchanging  a  watery  smile.  They  cast  off  the 
ropes,  the  Lascars  skipped  about  like  monkeys,  the  crowd  stood 
back,  slowly  the  great  ship  slipped  away  from  the  wharf  into  the 
river,  and  as  she  moved  down  stream  the  crowd  ran  with  her  a 
little  wav,  drowning  the  missionarv  ladies  with  hurrahs.  In  the 
Peacheys'  last  glimpse  of  their  Helen  she  was  standing  beside 
little  Mrs.  Macdonald  and  a  stout  gentleman  with  a  pale  face, 
rather  flabby  and  deeply  marked  about  the  mouth  and  under  the 
eyes — a  gentleman  whom  nature  had  intended  to  be  fair  but 
whom  climatic  conditions  had  darkened  in  defiance  of  the  inten- 
tion. ^Irs.  Macdonald  tapped  the  gentleman  in  a  sprightly  way 
with  her  parasol,  for  the  Peacheys'  benefit,  and  he  took  off  his 
hat.  The  Peachey  family  supposed,  quite  correctly,  that  that 
must  be  Mr.  Macdonald. 


Peacheys 
lissionary 
r lends  in 
)  a  young 


24 


'rHE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


('        I 


\\ 


CHAPTER  III. 


% 


I 


ii.1 


HELEN    thought   the    prospect 
of    Eiighind    slipping   away 
from   lier   in   the   rain  as   the   shi]» 
throbbed  down  the  river,  too   deso- 
late   for     endurance,    so     she     de- 
scended  to  her  cabin  with   the  un- 
avowed    intention  of    casting    her- 
self upon  her  berth  to  weep.     Miss 
Stitch  was  there,  however,  and  Mrs. 
Forsyth  -  Jones,    who    occupied    tlie 
berth  above  Miss   Stitch's,  and  the 
steward,     which     seemed     to 
Helen  a  good  many,  and  she 
retreated. 

"  Oh,  come  in  !  "  both  the 
ladies  cried ;  but  Helen 
thought  it  was  obviously  im- 
possible. She  vi'andered  into 
the  long  dining  -  saloon  and 
sat  down  in  one  of  the  re- 
volving chairs;  she  watched 
a  fat  ayah  patting  a  baby  to 
sleep  on  the  floor,  looked  into  the  ladies'  cabin  and  went  hastily 
out  again,  for  already  the  dejected  had  begun  to  gather  there, 


ISAJIIB. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTVRES  OF  A    MEMSAHIR. 


25 


the    prospect 

slipping   away 

n  as   the  ship 

ver,  too   dcsd- 

so     she     dc- 

with   the  uii- 

casting  her- 
o  weep.  Miss 
ever,  and  Mrs. 

occupied    the 

tch's,  and   the 

seemed     to 

nany,  and  she 

in  !  "  both  the 
but      Helen 
obviously  im- 
wandered  into 
g  -  saloon  and 
)ne  of  the  re- 
she  watched 
ting  a  baby  t(' 
d  went  hastily 
>  gather  there. 


prone  on  the  sofas  and  commiserated  by  the  stewardesses. 
Finally  she  made  her  way  upon  deck  again,  meeting  Mrs.  Mae- 
donald  in  the  companion-way.  "Are  you  all  right?"  asked 
Mrs.  Macdonald  cheerfully ;  but,  before  Helen  had  time  to  say 
that  she  was  or  was  not,  the  lady  had  disappeared. 

The  deck  was  full  of  irresolute  people  like  herself,  who  sat 
Hbout  on  the  damp  benches  or  walked  up  and  down  under  the 
liwning,  still  with  the  look  of  being  fresh  from  town,  still  in 
gloves  and  stiff  hats,  and  land-faring  garments.  They  put 
their  hands  in  their  pockets  and  shivered,  and  looked  askance 
at  each  other,  or  made  vain  attempts  to  extract  their  own  from 
the  steamer  chairs  that  were  heaped  up  astern,  waiting  the 
oflfices  of  a  quartermaster.  An  occasional  hurrying  steward 
was  stopped  a  dozen  times  by  passengers  thirsting  for  informa- 
ition.  Barefooted  Lascars  climbed  about  their  monkey-like  busi- 
Jiess  among  the  ropes,  or  polished  the  brasses  on  the  smoking- 
cabin,  or  holystoned  a  deck  which  seemed  to  Helen  immacu- 
lately clean  before.  She  found  a  dry  corner  and  sat  down  in  it 
to  consider  how  much  more  familiar  with  the  ship  many  of  the 
people  seemed  to  be  than  she  was,  and  to  envy  all  the  accus- 
jlomed  ones.  It  seemed  to  Helen  that  she  had  better  not  analyse 
her  other  emotions.     She  wasn't  comfortable,  l)ut  no  doubt  she 

Joon  would  be;  she  wasn't  cheerful;  but  how  could  anybody 
xpect  that  ?  She  was  restless  and  damp  aiul  unhappy,  and  it 
inally  became  necessary  for  her  to  draw  young  Browne's  photo- 
|raph  out  of  her  hand-bag  and  peruse  it  in  shelter  of  the  Diuhj 
j^raphic  for  a  very  long  time.  After  which  her  spirits  rose 
|ppreciably.  "  He  is  a  dear !  "  she  smiled  to  herself,  "  and  he's 
|ot  a  lovely  forehead— and  in  just  five  weeks  I  shall  see  him 
Igain— just  five  weeks  !  " 

Quite   an   ordinary  reflection   you   see,   without   a  shade  of 
3 


I 


26 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A  MEM  SAHIB. 


subtlety,  a  reflection  probably  common  to  engaged  young  ladies 
the  world  over;  but  I  have  already  warned  you  under  no  circum- 
stances to  expect  anything  extraordinary  from  Helen.  It  will 
be  my  fault  if  you  find  her  dull,  I  >hall  be  in  that  case  no  faith- 
ful historian,  but  a  traducer.  I  have  not  known  the  present 
Mrs.  Browne  to  be  dull,  even  at  the  close  of  a  protracted  round 
of  Indian  social  gaieties ;  but  you  must  not  expect  her  to  be 
original. 

The  voyage  to  Calcutta  began  in  this  way,  and  I  happen  to 
know  that  its  chief  feature  of  consolation — young  Browne's 
forehead — remained  in  Helen's  pocket,  and  was  constantly  be- 
spoken. Especially  perhaps  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  which  ful- 
filled all  its  traditions  for  her  benefit.  I  fear  that  there  were 
moments,  tempestuous  moments,  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  height- 
ened by  the  impassioned  comments  of  Miss  Stitch  and  Mrs. 
Forsyth-Jones,  Avhen  Helen  did  not  dare  to  dwell  upon  tlu; 
comparative  advantages  of  desiccated  spinsterhood  in  Canbury, 
and  matrimony  in  foreign  parts  attainable  only  by  sea.  She 
felt  that  it  would  be  indiscreet,  that  she  could  not  trust  her 
conclusions  to  do  credit  to  her  fealty.  If  it  were  not  for  Miss 
Stitch  and  Mrs.  Forsyth-Jones,  Helen  reflected,  the  horrors  of 
the  situation  would  have  been  less  keen ;  but  I  have  no  doubt 
that  each  of  these  ladies  entertained  the  same  sentiments  toAvards 
her  two  fellow-voyagers.  They  united,  however,  in  extollinix 
the  steward.  The  stewardess  was  a  necessarily  perfunctory  per- 
son, with  the  quaverings  of  forty  ladies  in  her  ears  at  once. 
The  stewardess  was  always  sure  she  "  didn't  know,  ma'am,"  and 
seemed  to  think  it  was  a  duty  one  owed  the  ship  to  go  up  on 
deck,  no  matter  how  one  felt.  She  was  also  occasionally  guilty 
of  bringing  one  cold  vegetables,  if  one  occurred  about  thirty- 
ninth  upon  her  list  of  non-diners  in  public.     But  the  steward 


SAHIB. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


27 


young  latlios 
er  no  circum- 
ulen.  It  will 
case  no  faitli- 
Q  the  present 
tracted  r 011  nil 
3ct  her  to  be 

I  happen  to 
Ling  Browne's 
constantly  be- 
LV,  which  ful- 
lat  there  were 
3iscay,  height- 
itch  and  Mrs. 
veil  upon  the 
1  in  Canbury, 

bv  sea.  Sho 
not  trust  her 
!  not  for  Miss 
the  horrors  of 
lave  no  doubt 
ments  towards 
in  extolling 
rfunctory  per- 

ears  at  once. 
^,  ma'am,"  and 
)  to  go  up  on 
,sionally  guilty 

ahout  thirty- 
it  the  steward 


was  a  man,  and  always  respectfully  cheerful.  lie  could  tell 
exactly  wliy  it  was  the  ship  rolled  in  that  peculiar  manner — 
owing  to  the  disposition  of  iron  in  the  hold.  Ik'  kiu'W  just 
how  long  they  would  be  in  "the  Bay,"  and  what  sort  of  weather 
"she"  would  be  likely  to  experience  during  tlu'  night;  also 
could  predict  within  a  quarter  of  4in  hour,  the  time  at  which 
they  would  land  at  Gibraltar.  He  was  generally  incorrect  in 
s|every  particular,  but  that  made  uo  diiference  to  the  value  of 
his  sanguine  prophecies,  while  it  mitigated  the  distressful  elTeets 
of  his  gloomy  ones.  And  it  was  always  he  who  brought  the 
ifirst  advice  that  the  ports  might  be  opened,  mIio  calmed  all 
fear  of  a  possible  rat  or  cockroach  "  coming  up  from  the  hold," 
and  who  heralded  the  ladies'  ap])earance  on  deck  with  arinfuls 
of  rugs,  in  the  days  of  early  convalescence.  They  chanted  to 
one  another  continually  how  "  nice  "  he  was,  and  liow  hard  he 
i?was  obliged  to  work,  poor  fellow,  each  mentally  determining  a 
;higher  figure  for  her  farewell  tip  than  she  had  thought  of  the 
iflay  before.  This  is  the  custom  of  ladies  the  world  over  who 
Bail  upon  the  seas. 

>  It  must  be  meutioned  that  Mrs.  Macdonald  visited  Helen's 
Jpabin  several  times  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay.  For  her  ])art  ^Irs. 
Itfacdonald  was  never  ill,  she  simply  made  up  her  mind  not  to 
'§e,  and  in  her  opinion  if  Helen  would  only  commit  herself  to  a 
Ipmilar  effort  she  would  be  all  right  immediately.  The  expres- 
jpon  of  this  opinion  rather  lessened  the  value  of  Mrs.  Macdon- 
Ipd's  sympathy ;  and  the  announcement  that  there  was  really 
vely  weather  going  on  above  and  the  ship  was  beginning  to  be 

Jolly,  failed  to  make  Helen  any  more  comfortable.     "  Well, 
l^ou  are  funny ! "  Mrs.  Macdonald  would  say  cheerfully  in  de- 
parting, and  she  said  it  every  day. 

Mr.  Macdonald  remarked  that  Gibraltar  looked  much  as  usual 


28 


THE    SIMPI.E  ADVEXTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIllH. 


the  morning  they  steamed  under  its  hostile  slmdow,  jind  Mrs. 
Macdonald  said  tliat  if  she  wasn't  in  absohite  need  of  some  darn- 
ing cotton  and  letter-paper  she  wouldn't  think  of  going  ashore — 
the  place  was  such  an  old  story.  The  consideration  of  darn  in  <r 
cotton  prevailed,  however,  and  the  Macdonalds  went  ashore, 
Helen  with  them.  Helen's, acquaintance  with  the  Macdonalds 
had  progressed  meanwhile.  She  had  learned  what  not  to  ex})ect 
of  them,  which  excluded  all  but  the  gayest  and  airiest  and  most 
indifferent  companionship,  and  this  facilitated  matters  between 
them  considerably.  It  was  a  little  difficult  at  first.  It  seemed 
to  this  young  lady  from  Wiltshire,  brought  up  among  serious 
traditions  of  matrimony,  that  her  case,  if  not  herself,  ought  to 
be  taken  a  little  more  importantly;  that  some  impression  of  the 
fateful  crisis  in  her  life,  toward  which  they  were  helping  to 
hurry  her,  ought  to  be  evident  occasionally  in  the  Macdonald 
conduct  or  conversation.  It  was  only  gradually  that  she  came 
to  see  how  lightly  such  projects  as  hers  and  young  Browne's 
were  regarded  by  these  people  Avho  were  still  in  the  initial  stages 
of  their  own  ;  how  little  space  she  or  her  affairs  occujiied  in  their 
good-natured  thoughts ;  how  invariably  she  must  expect  any  ref- 
erence to  it  to  be  jocular.  During  the  process  Helen  had  now 
and  then  a  novel  sense  of  making  one  of  the  various  parcels 
which  Mrs.  Macdonald  had  undertaken  to  bring  out  to  friends  in 
Calcutta — a  feeling,  that  she  ought  properly  to  be  in  an  air-tight 
box  in  the  hold,  corded  and  labelled  and  expected  to  give  no 
further  trouble.  She  realized,  at  moments,  that  she  was  being 
"  shipped  "  to  young  Browne. 

They  did  exactly  what  everybody  does  in  Gibraltar.  There 
was  no  time  to  get  permission  from  the  authorities  and  go 
through  the  galleries,  there  never  is.  Barring  which,  the  people 
of  the  ships  find  themselves  without  resource  except  to  drive  in 


MIIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM SA II IB.        29 


,v,  and  Mrs. 

some  (liini- 
iig  ashore — 

of  (larniii;f 
rent   asliore, 
MacdonaUls 
lot  to  expect 
jst  and  most 
ters  between 
.     It  seemed 
nong  serious 
,elt',  ought  to 
ression  of  the 
e  lielping  to 
0  Macdonald 
lat  she  came 
ng  Browne's 

initial  stages 
ipied  in  their 
ipect  any  ref- 
len  had  now 
irious  parcels 

to  friends  in 
n  an  air-tight 
id  to  give  no 

ilie  was  being 

ultar.  There 
)rities  and  go 
ch,  the  people 

pt  to  drive  in 


tlie  rattie-tra})  conveyances  of  the  place  through  its  narrow  twist- 
ing, liigli-waUed  over-topping   wliile   streets  and  out   })ast   tlio 
Spanisii  market,  wiiere  everybody  buys  figs  and  pomegranates  to 
*  throw  overboard  afterwards,  and  so  emerging  from  tlio  town  trot 
through  the  sand  and  the  short  grass  round  tlie  mighty  gray 
foot  of  tlic  Uock,  to  look  up  and  marvel  ut  the  terror  of  those 
irregular  holes  Ui)on  its  face,  and   the  majesty  that  it  had  long 
before  it  became  conscious  with  cannon.     Helen  and  the  Mac- 
doiialds  dill  all  this  and  said  just  what  P.  and  O.  voyagers  have 
said  for  the  last  ([uarter  of  a  century  about  it.    Coming  back  Mrs. 
Macdonald  bought  her  darning  cotton  and  her  letter-paper  at  a 
little  shop,  whose  black-browed  proprietor  sold  photographs  and 
wicked  knives,  and   long  })ipes  as    well.      Afterwards    they   all 
strolled  through  the  Alameda  gardens,  that  cling  for  life  among 
their   verbenas  and    rose  bushes  to  the  sides  of  the  Kock,  and 
finally  fell  into  that  fatal  corner  shop  which  entrai)s  the  unwary 
with  curios.     All  roads  seem  to  lead  to  it  in  Gibraltar,  and  one 
•knows  it  by  the  crowd  of  speculative  passengers  that  encumber 
the  doorway  considering  and   contrasting   desiralde   purchases. 
The  S})aniards  inside  are  haughty  and  indifferent,  they  will  abate 
a  shilling  or  two  of  their  exorbitance  perhajis,  not  more.     That 
Is  what  the  ^[acdonalds  said  to  everybody  in  an   undertone — 
**  You  needn't  try,  they  won't  come  down — it  doesn't  seem  to  be 
ivorth  their  while.     "We  used  to  think  they  would,  but  now  we 
iion't  ask  them ! "  and  in  the  face  of  this  advice  of  experience 
;Wie  passengers  hesitated  still  more  over  their  ill-shaped  Moorish 
wases,  black  and  red  and  blue  and  gilt,  their  brass  and  coloured 
Jlass  hanging  lamps  from   Cairo,   their  Persian   china  superfi- 
iSially  gilt  but  beautifully  blue.    The  things  that  fascinated  Helen 
jjrere  curious  plaques  in  relief,  all  marshy  greens,  in  which  the 
^ost  realistic  lizards  and  toads  were  creeping  about  in  imitated 


>  ff 

I 

I 

I 
I 


lit 


30 


77//=:  s/M }']./•:  ADVj:xrL-/a:s  o/-  a  az/.a/s.-u/zb. 


moss.  Miss  I'ciiclu'y  would  liuvo  liked  at  least  four  of  these,  tlioy 
struck  her  as  so  ()ri<;iiial  and  clever,  until  ^frs.  Ma(;donald  at  her 
elbow  said,  in  an  iinpressivo  whisper  "  Huiil !  Vou  see  them  in 
board  IN  i/-houii(}S  in  Calcutta!"  when  she  put  them  reluctantly 
down,  and  lK)u<;ht  a  big  bedecked  Spanish  liat  to  make  a 
work-basket  of,  and  a  large  fan,  upon  which  sundry  ladies  of  de- 
praved appearance  and  very  Irisli  features  were  dancing  a  Jaii- 
danijo  instead.  1  have  seen  that  fan  in  the  i)resent  Mrs. 
Browne's  Calcutta  drawing-room  frequently  since.  She  has  ii 
fastened  on  the  vail  immediately  under  a  photogravure  of  The 
Anyelus^  and  slic  will  not  take  it  down. 

Between  Gibraltar  and  Xajjles,  Helen  observed  the  peculiari- 
ties of  the  species  P.  and  0.  passenger,  the  person  who  si)ends 
so  large  a  portion  of  a  lifetime  shorter  than  the  average,  in  won- 
dering how  much  more  of  this  delightful  or  this  abominable 
weather  "•  we'll  have,"  in  the  Indian  Ocean  or  the  Ked  Sea.  She 
observed  that  ^Miss  Stitch  arose  betimes  every  morning,  and  at- 
tended the  service  held  by  the  little  i)alo  ritualistic  clergyman  in 
the  saloon  before  the  tables  were  laid  for  breakfast,  which  struck 
her  as  eminently  proper,  !Miss  Stitch  being  a  missionary.  Slu- 
also  noticed  that  ^Irs.  Forsyth-Jones,  returning  to  her  husband 
in  Burmah,  with  three  photographs  of  him  in  uniform  variously 
arranged  in  the  cabin,  had  as  many  small  flirtations  well  in 
hand,  one  in  the  morning,  of  the  promenade  sort,  with  a  middle- 
aged  Under  Secretary,  one  in  the  afternoon,  conducted  in  long 
chairs,  enhanced  by  sunset,  with  a  Royal  Engineer,  whose  wife 
was  similarly  occupied  at  the  other  end  of  the  ship,  and  one  in 
the  evening  in  a  secluded  corner  of  the  hurricane  deck,  chari- 
tably witnessed  by  the  moon  and  stars,  with  a  callow  indig(j 
planter  about  the  age  of  her  eldest  son.  Helen  thought  that  the 
missionary  or  somebody,  some  older  person,  ought  to  speak  to  this 


A II  IB, 


i 


THE   SI  Mr  IE  ADVENTURES  OF  A   MEMSAIIIB.        3! 


of  tlioso,  tlu'V 
iloiiiild  Jit  lllT 

I  SCO  them  in 

II  rc'liK.'tuiitly 
,  to  mako  a 
\-  Indies  of  dt'- 
inc'iii^'  a  fttn- 

prcsi'iit  Mi'rf. 
}.  She  has  it 
[•avure  of   The 

the  poculiuri- 
11  who  spends 
erage,  in  won- 
lis  ahomiuablf 
Kod  Sea.     Slic 
jrning,  and  at- 
clergyman  in 
:,  wliich  struck 
ssionary.     She 
0  her  husband 
'orm  variously 
ations  well  in 
with  a  middle- 
.ducted  in  long 
eer,  whose  wife 
ip,  and  one  in 
ne  deck,  chari- 
callow  indigo 
lought  that  the 
to  speak  to  this 


4ldy  in  terms  of  guarded  n'proof,  and  tell  her  that  her  conduct 
was  more  conspicuous  than  perhaps  slie  knew  ;  and  <uir  young 
Jady  from  Wiltsiiire  was  surprised  to  observe  not  only  that  no- 
body did,  hut  that  Mrs.  Forsyth-Jones  seemed  to  be  a  person  of 
lome  i)opularity  on  board.  The  Macdonalds,  for  instance,  hung 
ijbout  iier  chair  with  solicitude,  in  the  temporary  absence  of  any 
of  the  af/ar/ics.  Mrs.  Macdonald  herself  had  i)lenty  of ''  men- 
friends"  as  she  called  them.  They  bu/zed  al)out  her,  whenever 
ihe  sat  or  stood  long  enough  to  permit  their  approacli,  all  day— 
they  were  always  bringing  her  rugs,  or  old  numbers  of  ranch, 
<k  an  orange.  But  Mrs.  Macdonald  did  not  particularize,  she 
was  content  with  a  general  empire,  thougli  she  [)rized  that,  as 
anybody  could  see.  Among  the  throng  Mr.  Macdonald  re- 
mained supreme;  she  expected  most  attention  from  him  too,  and 
she  called  him  "  Mac." 

Miss  Stitch  confided  to  Miss  Peachey  her  opinion  that  "  the 
people  on  board  this  ship  "  were  more  than  usually  cliquey;  but 
this  was  not  a  conclusion  that  Helen  would  have  arrived  at  unas- 
sisted. She  saw  about  her  day  after  day,  lining  the  long  tables 
and  afterwards  scattered  about  easefully  on  deck,  a  great  many 
people,  some  of  whom  she  thought  agreeable-looking,  and  others 
distinctly  the  reverse.  Miss  Stitch  seemed  to  think  one  ought 
to  know  everybody.  Helen  was  sure  that  a  few — a  very  few — of 
the  agreeable-looking  people  would  do  quite  well.  She  did  not 
Efee  at  all  how  Miss  Stitch  could  bring  herself  to  talk  to  the  per- 
se^ who  sat  next  her  at  table,  and  wore  a  large  diamond  ring  on 
his  third  finger,  and  drank  champagne  every  day  at  tiffin,  and 
Sttd  he  was  travelling  for  his  "  'ealth,"  and  pointed  most  of  his  re- 
marks with  a  tooth-pick.  Helen  thought  that  even  missionary 
il  would  not  carry  her  so  far  as  that.  On  the  other  hand,  she 
md  it  difficult  to  understand  why  everybody,  including  Miss 


f,rr 


32 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


)\ 


Stitcli,  seemed  agreed  not  to  make  acquaintance  with  a  soft-eyed, 
sad-ftieed  lady  of  rather  dark  complexion,  who  talked  in  a  gentle 
voice  with  a  slightly  foreign  accent,  Helen  thought,  and  was 
accompanied  by  three  daughters,  who  much  resembled  her. 
They  looked  very  quiet  and  lady-like  to  Helen,  and  she  thought 
the  manners  of  certain  boisterous  young  ladies  who  polkaed  with 
the  ship's  officers  on  a  heaving  deck  after  dinner,  and  whom 
everyl)()dy  accepted,  suifered  by  comparison  with  them.  When 
she  was  told  that  their  name  was  l)e  Cruz,  Helen  privately  criti- 
cised her  fellow  countrywomen's  attitude.  "  It  must  be,"  she 
said  to  herself,  "  because  they  are  foreign."  And  so  it  was — be- 
cause they  were  foreign.  "  About  four  annas  in  the  rupee,"  said 
Miss  Stitcli  about  them  one  day,  and  told  Helen  that  she  would 
find  out  what  that  meant  before  she  had  been  long  in  India. 
But  Miss  Stitch,  M.  D.,  was  interested  in  the  welfare,  temporal 
and  eternal,  only  of  ladies  who  were  "  pure  native." 

Then  one  peaceful  rainy  morning,  after  a  rolling  night,  Na- 
ples lay  before  them,  gathered  all  about  her  harbour  with  Vesu- 
vius gently  smoking  in  tlie  distance.  The  slippery  hurricane 
deck  was  full  of  people  looking  for  Vesuvius,  grouped  round 
the  single  nude  passenger,  who,  awakened  by  the  first  officer  at 
four  in  the  morning,  hac.  seen  it  spouting  fire.  Enviable  male 
passenger !  Invidious  first  officer !  Out  from  shore  came  dis- 
reputable Xeai)olitan  companies  in  small  boats,  with  stringed 
instruments,  who  lay  under  the  ship's  sides  and  sang,  "  Fini- 
culi — Finicula ! "  in  a  lavish  and  abandoned  manner,  turnin^u 
up  their  impudent  faces  for  contributions  from  the  truly  musical 
souls  on  board.  Helen  listened,  enraptured,  to  a  number  of 
these  renditions,  after  which  she  concluded  that  she  preferred 
"  Finiculi — Finicula  "  as  she  had  heard  it  sung  by  Mr.  Browne, 
in  Canbury,  Wilts.     After  breakfast,  the  Macdonalds  attached 


SAHIB. 


THE    SIMPLE  AD  VEX  rU  RES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


33 


h  11  soft-eyed, 
ed  in  a  gentle 
gilt,  and  was 
jsembled   her. 
d  she  thought 
I  polkaed  with 
31',  and  whom 
them.     When 
privately  criti- 
must   be,"  she 
so  it  was — be- 
le  rupee,"  said 
that  she  would 
long  in  India. 
Ifare,  temporal 


11 


ing  night,  Xa- 
Dur  with  Vesu- 
lery  hurricane 
p'ouped  round 
first  officer  at 
Enviable  male 
lore  came  dis- 
with  stringed 


sang, 


(( 


Fini- 


inner,  turnini: 
truly  musicid 
a  number  of 
she  preferred 
ly  ]Mr.  Browne, 
nalds  attached 


themselves  to  an  exploring  party  for  Pompeii,  under  the  guid- 
ftnce  of  a  black-browed  Neapolitan,  representing  Messrs.  Cook. 
Mrs.  Macdonald  went  about  in  a  pretty,  new  watcrpi'oof,  with 
Bulwer's  Last  Days  in  her  hand,  telling  people  she  really  must 
go  this  time,  she  had  been  lazy  so  often  before,  and  it  was  so 
awfully  cheap  with  these  people — carriages,  rail,  titlin  and  see 
evervtliin<j^  for  onlv  thirty  francs  each  !  Helen  and  Miss  Stitch 
itayed  beliind,  the  night  had  been  too  rough  to  let  tliem  ven- 
ture on  the  absorption  of  so  much  ancient  history,  even  at  this 
advantageous  rate.  But  later,  wlien  the  sun  came  out,  the 
young  ladies  recovered  their  spirits  sufficiently  to  cruise  adven- 
turously to  shore  by  themselves,  to  engage  a  ragged-jjocketcd 
"guide"  of  perhaps  thirteen,  and  a  rattling  little  victoria, 
pulled  by  a  clinking  little  pony,  with  bells  u})on  his  collar,  and 
drive  about  Naples  for  three  delicious  hours.  I  can't  say  they 
added  much  to  their  stock  of  information.  They  had  no  idea 
where  to  go  and  what  to  see ;  but  one  can  always  absorb  colour 
and  life  without  a  guide-book,  hap])ily;  and  I  know,  from  what 
she  told  me  afterward,  that  Helen  Peachey  did  that.  They 
found  abundant  happiness  in  the  curio  shops  and  much  un- 
palatable fruit  in  the  open  market;  they  filled  their  rattletrap 
of  a  carriage  with  great  bunches  of  tiny  })ink  roses  at  a  few 
coppers  a-piece,  and  buried  their  faces  in  them.  They  were 
told,  driving  through  a  grand  top])ling  main  street,  all  draped 
and  garhuided  with  little  glass  bells  for  candles,  red,  green,  and 
blue,  that  the  King  was  coming  next  day.  The  boy  guide  told 
them  this.  lie  showed  them  also  the  Koyal  Palace,  with  all 
tbe  statues  of  former  kings  standing  about  outside,  and  the 
'yprand  Cafe  de  I'Europe,"  much  embellished  by  a  painter 
tjioso  art  had  evidently  once  found  favour  with  the  munici- 
lity.      In   the  opinion   of   the   guide,   the   "Grand   Cafe   de 


r 


34 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


'Euroiie  "  was  what  reasonable  people  came  to  ^S'aples  to  see; 
ho  pointed  it  out  many  times  and  with  an  increasing  sliow  ot' 
personal  admiration.  He  was  a  very  useful,  clever  boy  the 
young  ladies  thought,  especially  when  he  took  them  to  the  post 
office  and  obtained  for  Miss  Stitch  a  receipt  for  the  registered 
letter  she  wanted  to  send  away,  in  as  business-like  a  manner  as 
if  he  were  in  the  habit  of  transmitting  large  sums  abroad  daily. 
"  Don'  you  lossit,  for  goodmz  sake ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  ho 
gave  her  the  slip.  But  I  doubt  whether  he  was  quite  worth 
the  sum  he  claimed  at  the  water's  edge  when  they  departed — 
the  pay  of  a  full-grown,  well-fed  guide  for  a  whole  day,  plus  ii 
2)Ourhoire^  which  they  ungrudgingly  gave  between  them. 

But  I  cannot  give  any  more  of  my  valuable  space  to  Mr.>. 
Browne's  reminiscences  of  that  voyage,  which  must,  according 
to  the  volumes  of  them,  have  lasted  a  space  of  about  seven 
months.  1  believe  they  were  all  very  gay  at  Port  Said,  walkini: 
through  the  single  wide  China  bazaar  street  of  the  place,  flam- 
ing with  colour  and  resonant  of  musicians  in  the  gambliiiL' 
houses,  drinking  black  coffee  on  the  boulevard,  and  realiziiiL' 
no  whit  of  Port  Said's  iniquity.  The  Suez  Canal  had  no  inci- 
dent but  several  loathly  odors,  and  then  came  the  long  smooth 
voyage  to  Colombo  and  a  fantastic  glimpse  of  first  cocoanut 
trees  fringing  the  shores  of  Ceylon.  A  great  deal  here  about 
sapphires  and  rubies  and  cat's  eyes  and  little  elephants  madt 
of  ivory  and  small  brown  diving-boys,  and  first  tropical  impres- 
sions, but  I  must  not  linger  in  the  chronicling.  Then  tht 
sail  up  to  ]\[adras,  and  the  brief  tarrying  there,  and  the  day.- 
that  came  after,  short  days  when  everybody  packed  and  rejoiced. 
At  last,  one  night  at  ten  o'clock,  a  light  that  was  not  a  star, 
shining  far  through  the  soft  still  darkness  beyond  the  bow  nf 
the  ship,  the  light  at  the  mouth  of  a  wide  brown  river  that 


SAHIB. 

Naples  to  sec; 
isiiig  show  oi 
ever   boy   tlu' 
sm  to  the  post 
the  registered 
e  a  maimer  as 
5  abroad  daily, 
[aimed,  as   ho 
is  quite  worth 
ley  departed — 
3le  day,  plus  a 
them. 

space  to  Mrs. 
lust,  according 
)f  about  seven 
i  Said,  walkiiii: 
he  place,  flam- 
the   gambling 
and  realizing 
al  had  no  inci- 
le  long  smooth 
first  cocoanut 
eal  here  about 
(lephants  matU' 
ropical  impres- 
\ct.      Then  tlu' 
,  and  the  day- 
id  and  rejoiced 
was  not  a  star. 
)nd  the  bow  <>f 
own  liver  that 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.         35 

dipped  to  tiie  sea  through  the  India,  Helen  would  see  in  the 
llloriiing,  and  past  the  city  whither  her  simple  heart  had  gone 
llifore  her. 

•  •  •  •  •  •  •  • 

Mrs.  Macdonald  kept  out  of  the  way.  It  was  the  one  con- 
widerate  thing  she  did  during  the  voyage.  Young  Browne, 
ittther  white  and  nervous-looking,  came  upon  Mr.  Macdonald 
first  in  the  turbulent  shore-going  crowd.  Mr.  Macdonald  was 
genial  and  reassuring.  "  You'll  find  her  over  there,  old  man," 
said  he  without  circumlocution,  "  rather  back.  Better  bring 
her  up  to  llungerford  Street  to  breakfast  yourself."  And  Helen 
straightway  was  found  by  young  Browne  in  the  precise  direction 
Mr.  ^Macdonald  had  indicated,  and  "rather  back."  She  always 
remembers  very  distinctly  that  on  that  occasion  t-iie  wore  a  blue 
Chambray  frock  and  a  sailor  hat  with  a  white  ribbon  round  it. 
It  is  not  a  matter  of  consequence,  still  it  might  as  well  be 
mentioned. 


36 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXrURES   OE  A    MEMSAHIB. 


'■t 


CHAPTER  IV. 


T  HAVE  ]io  doubt  that  the  present  Mrs.  Browne  would  like 
-L  nie  to  linger  over  her  first  impressions  of  Calcutta.  She 
has  a  habit  now  of  stating  that  they  were  keen.  Tliat  the 
pillared  houses  and  the  palm-shaded  gardens,  and  the  multi- 
plicity of  tnrbaned  domestics  gave  her  special  raptures,  which 
slie  has  since  outgrown,  but  still  likes  to  claim.  She  said  noth- 
ing al)out  it  at  the  time,  however,  and  I  am  disposed  to  believe 
that  the  impressions  came  later,  after  young  Browne  had  become 
a  familiar  object,  and  all  the  boxes  were  unpacked.  As  they 
were  not  married  immediatelv,  but  a  week  after  tlie  Khedive 
arrived,  to  give  Mrs.  Macdonald  time  to  unpack  her  boxes,  the 
former  of  these  processes  was  an  agreeably  gradual  one  occu- 
pying six  morning  and  evening  drives  in  Mr.  Browne's  dog- 
cart, and  sundrv  half-hours  between.  Mrs.  Macdonald  wanted 
to  make  the  house  pretty  for  the  wedding.  "  Really,  child," 
said  she,  "  you  can't  be  married  in  a  barn  like  this  !  "  and  to 
that  end  she  drew  forth  many  Liberty  muslins,  much  "art" 
needlework,  and  all  the  decoration  flotsam  and  jetsam  of  the 
season's  summer  sales  in  Oxford  Street.  I  understand  that  botii 
the  Brownes  protested  against  the  plan  to  have  a  wedding ;  they 
only  wanted  to  be  married,  they  said,  of  course  in  the  Church, 
regularly,  but  without  unnecessary  circumstance.  "  People  can 
see  it  next  day  in  The  Englishman^^''  suggested  young  Browne, 
urged  privately  to  this  course  by  Helen.     But  it  was  a  point 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


17 


upon  which  Mrs.  Macdonald  was  inflexible.  "  Certainly  not  a 
big  wedding,"  said  she,  "  since  you  don't  want  it,  but  a  few 
people  we  must  have  just  to  see  it  properly  done.  Wluit 
would  Calcutta  think  of  you "  —  reproachfully,  to  young 
Browne,  "  getting  the  knot  tied  that  way,  in  a  corner !  Be- 
sides, it  will  be  a  lovely  way  of  letting  everybody  know  we 
are  back.  Vll  manage  it — I  know  exactly  who  you  ought  to 
have ! " 

'{'hereupon  Helen  brought  out  from  among  her  effects  a  cer- 
tain square  wooden  box,  and  besought  that  it  might  be  opened. 
"  It's — it's  the  cake,"  she  explained  with  blushes  ;  mother  tJiought 


I  ought  to  bring  it — " 

"  Oh,  of  course  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Macdonald  briskly  ;  "  every- 
body does.  There  were  five  altogether  on  board  tiie  Khodive. 
Let  us  hope  it  has  carried  well ! " 

They  opened  the  box,  and  Helen  took  out  layers  of  silver 
paper  with  nervous  fingers.  "  It  seems  a  good  deal  crushed," 
slie  said.  Then  she  came  npon  a  beautiful  white  sugar  bird  of 
Paradise  lacking  his  tail,  and  other  fragments  dotted  with  little 
silver  pellets,  and  the  petals  of  a  whole  flower-garden  in  ])ink 
icing.  "  It  has  not  carried  well ! "  she  exclaimed  grievously — 
and  it  hadn't.  It  was  the  proudest  erection  of  the  Canbury  con- 
fectioner's experience,  a  glory  and  a  wonder  when  it  arrived  at 
the  Rectory,  but  it  certainly  had  not  carried  well :  it  was  a 
travelled  wreck. 

"  Looks  very  sorry  for  itself  ! "  remarked  young  Browne,  who 
happened  to  be  present. 

"  It  must  have  happened  in  that  hateful  Bay  of  Biscay  I " 
said  Helen,  with  an  inclination  to  tears. 

"Oh,  never  mind!"  Mrs.  Macdonald  put  in  airily,  as  if  it 
were  a  trifle.     "It's  easy  enough  to  get  another.     I'll  send  a 


38 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


chit  to  Peliti's  this  very  afternoon.  You  can  use  up  this  one 
for  live  o'clock  tea  afterwards." 

"But  do  you  think  it  won't  do  at  all,  Mrs.  Macdonald?" 
Helen  begged.  "  You  see  the  lower  tier  isn't  much  damaged, 
and  it  came  all  the  way  from  home,  you  know." 

"  I  think  it  ought  to  do,"  remarked  young  Browne. 

"  My  dear !  "  cried  her  hostess,  "  think  of  how  it  would  look! 
In  the  midst  of  everything  !  It  would  quite  spoil  your  wedding ! 
Oh,  no — we'll  have  another  from  Peliti's." 

"  What  could  one  do  ? "  confided  Mrs.  Browne  to  me  after- 
wards. "  It  was  her  allair — not  ours  in  the  least.  We  were  get- 
ting married,  don't  you  see,  for  her  amusement ! "  But  that 
was  in  one  of  Mrs.  Browne's  ungrateful  moments.  And  was 
private  to  mo.  Generally  speaking,  Mrs.  Browne  said  she 
thouglit  the  Macdonalds  arranged  everything  charmingly.  The 
Canbury  cake  went,  however,  to  the  later  suburban  residence  of 
the  Brownes,  and  was  there  consumed  by  them  in  the  reckless 
moments  of  the  next  six  months. 

I  was  one  of  the  people  Mrs.  Macdonald  knew  the  Brownes 
ought  to  have,  and  I  went  to  the  wedding,  in  a  new  heliotrope 
silk.  I  remember  that  also  came  out  by  the  Khedive.  It  was 
in  the  Cathedral,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  full  choral 
service,  quantities  of  flowers,  and  two  heads  of  departments  in 
the  company,  one  ex-Commissioner,  and  a  Member  of  Council. 
None  of  them  were  people  the  Brownes  were  likely  to  see  much 
of  afterward,  in  my  opinion,  and  I  wondered  at  Mrs.  Macdonald's 
asking  them ;  but  the  gown  she  graced  the  occasion  in  would 
have  justified  an  invitation  to  the  Viceroy — pale  green  poplin 
with  silver  embroidery. 

The  bride  came  very  bravely  up  the  aisle  upon  the  arm  of  her 
host,  all  in  the  white  China  silk,  a  little  crushed  in  places,  w^hich 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


39 


lis  one 

laid  ?  " 
maged, 


d  look! 
idding ! 

e  after- 
Bre  get- 
ut  that 
nd  was 
aid  she 
f.  The 
ence  of 
reckless 

irownes 
iotrope 

It  was 

choral 
ents  ill 
Council, 
e  much 

onald's 
1  would 

poplin 

1  of  her 
which 


the  Caiibury  dressmaker  had  been  reluctantly  persuaded  to  make 
unostentatiously.  Tlie  bridegroom  stood  consciously  ready  with 
his  supporter;  we  all  listened  to  the  nervous  vows,  sympa- 
thetically thinking  back ;  the  little  Eurasian  choir-boys  sang 
lustily  over  the  pair.  Two  inquisitive  black  crows  perched  in 
tlic  open  window  and  surveyed  the  ceremony,  flying  off  with 
lioarse  caws  at  the  point  of  the  blessing ;  from  the  world  out- 
side came  the  hot  bright  glare  of  the  afternoon  sun  upon  the 
Maidan,  and  the  creaking  of  the  ox-gharries,*  and  the  chatting 
of  the  mynas  in  the  casucrinaf  trees,  and  the  scent  of  some 
waxy  heavy-smelling  thing  of  the  country — how  like  it  was  to 
every  other  Indian  wedding  where  a  maid  comes  trippingly 
from  over  seas  to  live  in  a  long  chair  under  a  punkah,  and 
bo  a  law  unto  kitmutgars ! 

The  new  Mrs.  Browne  received  our  congratulations  with  shy 
distance  after  it  was  all  over.  She  looked  round  at  the  big  stucco 
church  with  its  white  pillars  and  cane  chairs,  and  at  our  unfa- 
miliar faces,  with  a  little  pitiful  smile.  I  had,  at  the  moment,  a 
feminine  desire  to  slap  Mrs.  Macdonald  for  having  asked  us. 
And  all  the  people  of  the  Rectory,  who  ought  to  have  been  at 
the  Avedding,  were  going  about  their  ordinary  business,  with  only 
now  and  then  a  speculative  thought  of  this.  Everybody  who 
really  cared  was  four  thousand  miles  away,  and  unaware.  We 
could  not  expect  either  of  them  to  think  much  of  our  perfunc- 
tory congratulations,  although  Mr.  Browne  expressed  himself 
very  politely  to  the  contrary  in  the  valuable  sentiments  he  uttered 
afterwards  in  connection  with  champagne  cup  and  the  IVditi 
wedding  cake,  on  Mrs.  Macdonald's  veranda. 

They  had  a  five  days'  honeymoon,  so  far  as  the  outer  world 


*  Native  ox-carts. 


f  Australian  fir. 


40 


/'///•;    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


' 


was  concerned,  and  they  spent  it  at  Patapore.  DarjilinfT,  as 
young  lirowne  was  careful  to  explain  to  Helen,  was  the  ])roper 
l)lace,  really  the  thin*,'  to  do,  but  it  took  twenty-six  hours  to 
get  to  Durjiling,  and  twenty-six  hours  to  get  back,  and  no- 
body wanted  to  i)lan  off  a  five  days'  honeymoon  like  that. 
Patapore,  on  the  contrary,  was  quite  accessible,  only  six  hours 
by  mail. 

"  Is  it  a  hill-station  ?  "  asked  Helen,  when  they  discussed  it. 

"  Not  precisely  a  hill-station,  darling,  but  it's  ou  rising 
ground — a  thousand  feet  higher  than  this." 

"  Is  it  an  interesting  place?"  she  inquired. 

"  I  think  it  ought  to  be,  under  the  circumstances." 

"  George!   I  mean  are   there    any   temples   there,   or    any- 


thin 


(r 


V" 


"  1  don't  remember  any  temples.  There  is  a  capital  dak- 
bungalo." 

"  And  what  is  a  dak-bungalow,  dear  ?  How  short  you  cut 
your  hair,  you  dear  old  thing  ! " 

"  That  was  provisional  against  your  arrival,  darling — so  you 
couldn't  pull  it.  A  dak-bungalow  is  a  sort  of  government  hotel, 
put  up  in  unfrequented  places  where  there  aren't  any  others,  for 
the  accommodation  of  travellers." 

"  Unfrequented  places !     0  George  !     Any  snakes  or  tigers?" 

"  Snakes — a  few,  I  dare  say.  Tigers — let  me  see  ;  you  might 
hear  of  one  about  fifty  miles  from  there." 

"  Dreadful ! "  shuddered  Helen,  rubbing  her  cheek  upon 
George's  convict  crop.     "  But  what  is  the  attraction.,  dear  ?  " 

"  The  air,"  responded  he,  promptly  substituting  his  mous- 
tache.    "  Wonderful  air !     Think  of  it,  Helen — a  thousand  feet 


up 


But  Helen  had  not  been  long  enough  in  India  to  think  of 


iling,  as 
3  proper 
hours  to 
{ind  no- 
ke  that. 
[X  hours 

ssed  it. 
Q   rising 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


41 


or    any- 

ital  dak- 

you  cut 

— so  you 
nt  hotel, 
:hers,  for 

tigers  ?  " 
DU  might 

?k    upon 
ar?" 
is  mous- 
jand  feet 

think  of 


it.      "  Air  is  a  thing  one   can   got   anywhere,"  slie   suggeslod  ; 
"  isn't  there  anytliing  else?" 

"Sechision,  darling — tlie  most  perfect  sechision  !  Lots  to 
eat— tliere's  always  the  railway  restaurant  if  tlic  ilak-l)ungaiow 
gives  out,  capital  air,  nice  country  to  walk  over,  and  not  a  soul 
to  speak  to  but  our  two  selves!  " 

"Oh!"  said  Helen.     ''It  sounds  very  nice,  dear "    And 

so  they  agreed. 

It  was  an  excellent  dak-bungalow  without  doubt,  quite  a 
wonder  in  dak-bungalows.  It  was  new,  for  one  thing — they  are 
not  generally  new — and  clean,  they  are  not  generally  clean. 
There  had  been  no  deserted  palace  or  disused  tomb  for  the  l'ov- 
ernment  to  utilize  at  Tatapore,  so  they  had  been  obliged  to  build 
this  dak-bungalow,  and  they  built  it  very  well.  It  had  ajjukka* 
roof  instead  of  a  thatched  one,  which  was  less  comfortable  for 
the  karaits  but  pleasanter  to  sleep  under ;  aiul  its  Widls  were 
straight  and  high,  well  raised  from  the  ground,  and  newly  white- 
washed. Inside  it  was  divided  into  three  pairs  of  rooms,  one  in 
the  middle  and  one  at  each  end.  You  stepped  into  one  of  your 
rooms  on  the  north  side  of  the  house  and  out  of  the  other  on  the 
south  side,  upon  your  share  of  the  south  veranda.  The  ar- 
rangement was  very  simple,  each  pair  of  rooms  was  separate  and 
independent,  and  had  nothing  to  say  to  any  other. 

The  furniture  was  simple  too,  its  sim})licity  left  nothing  to 
ho  desired.  There  were  charpoysf  to  sleep  on,  travellers  brought 
tlioir  own  bedding.  In  one  room  there  were  two  chairs  and  a 
table,  in  the  other  a  table  and  two  chairs.  There  was  nothiiiir 
on  the  floor  and  nothing  on  the  walls.  There  was  ample  accom- 
modation for  the  air  of  Patapore,  and  no  other  attraction  tointer- 


*  Made  of  brick  and  mortar. 
4 


f  Native  beds. 


42 


THE   SIMPLE   ADl'EXTVKES  OE  A    MEM  SAL' IB. 


fere  with  it.  I  don't  know  whctlier  we  have  any  ri<i:l»t  to  accom- 
pany the  Brownc'8  to  I'atapore,  and  to  stay  with  them  there;  it 
is  certain  tiuit  we  would  not  be  welcome,  if  tliey  knew  it.  It  is 
equally  certain  that  nobody  else  did — they  were,  a'  young  Browne 
had  predicted,  supremely  alone.  At  seven  in  the  mornijig  the 
old  khansamah  in  charge  of  the  place  gave  them  chota  hazri  * 
in  the  room  with  tiie  table  in  it,  bringing  tea  in  a  chipped  brown 
teapot,  and  big  thick  cups  to  drink  it  out  of,  one  edged  with  blue 
and  the  other  with  green,  and  buttered  toast  u})on  a  plate  which 
did  not  match  any  tiling,  lie  was  a  little  brown  khansamah, 
with  very  bright  eyes  and  a  thin  white  heard  and  a  trot — he  re- 
minded one  curiously  of  a  goat.  Ills  lips  were  thin  and  much 
compressed ;  he  took  the  Brownes  solemnly,  and  charged  them 
only  three  rupees  a  day  each  for  their  food,  which  young  Browne 
found  astonishingly  moderate,  though  Helen,  when  she  worked 
it  out  in  shillings  and  pence,  and  considered  the  value  received, 
could  not  biing  herself  to  agree  with  this. 

After  chota  hazri  they  went  for  walks,  long  walks,  stepping 
oil  the  dak-bungalow  veranda,  as  Helen  said,  into  India  as  it 
was  before  ever  the  Sahibs  came  to  rule  over  it.  For  they  could 
turn  their  backs  upon  the  long  straight  bank  of  the  railway  and 
wander  for  miles  in  anv  direction  over  a  countrv  that  seemed  as 
empty  as  if  it  had  just  been  made.  As  far  as  they  could  see  it 
rolled  in  irregular  plains  and  low  broken  ridges  and  round  hil- 
locks all  covered  with  short,  dry  grass,  to  the  horizon,  and  there, 
very  far  away,  the  gray  outlines  of  an  odd  mountain  or  two  stood 
against  the  sky.  A  few  sari  trees  were  scattered  here  and  there 
in  clumps,  all  their  lower  branches  stolen  for  firewood,  and 
wherever  a  mud  hut  squatted  behind  a  hillock  there  grew  a  tall 


*  Little  breakfast. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADl'EXTrh'ES   OF  A    MEMSAHlli. 


43 


castor  oil  beau  tree  or  two,  and  some  j)laiitaiiis.  Tiierc  wi'ro 
traiika  of  cattle,  there  was  an  occasional  tank  tliat  had  evidently 
been  ({\v^  out  by  men,  and  there  were  footpaths  making  up  aiul 
over  the  hillocks  and  across  the  stony  beds  of  the  empty  nul- 
lii/ts;*  but  it  was  only  in  the  morning  or  in  tlie  evening  that 
tiiev  met  any  of  the  brown  i)e<)ple  that  lived  thereabouts.  Then 
they  came  in  little  straggling  strings  and  bands,  looking  at  these 
strangers  from  under  inverted  baskets,  appearing  from  nowhere 
and  disappearing  in  vague  and  crooked  directions,  llelen'8 
husband  told  her  that  they  were  coolies  working  in  coalmines  on 
the  side  of  the  railway.  There  were  crows,  too,  and  vultures — the 
crows  were  familiar  and  impertinent,  the  vultures  sailed  high  and 
took  no  notice  of  them — and  that  was  all.  They  went  forth  and 
they  came  back  again.  Helen  made  a  few  primitive  sketches  in 
her  husband's  note-book.  I  do  not  think  she  did  the  country 
justice,  but  her  sketches  seemed  to  me  to  indicate  the  character  of 
her  impressions  of  it.  They  went  forth  and  they  came  back  agaiti, 
always  to  a  meal — breakfast,  or  tiffin,  or  dinner,  as  tlu;  case 
might  be.  Helen  liked  dinner  best,  because  then  the  lamps 
were  lighted,  and  she  had  an  excuse  for  changing  her  dress. 
They  partock  of  these  meals  with  three-tined  steel  forks,  and 
knives  worn  down  to  dagger  points,  according  to  the  un- 
fathomable custom  of  the  mussalc1ii.\  The  courses  consisted  of 
variations  upon  an  original  leg  of  mutton  which  occurred  at  one 
of  their  earlier  repasts,  served  upon  large  cracked  plates  with 
metal  reservoirs  of  hot-water  under  them,  and  embellished  by 
tinned  peas  of  a  suspicious  pallor.  And  always  there  was 
moorghyX — moorghy  boiled  and  fried  and  roasted,  moorghy  cut- 
lets, moorghy  curry,  moorghy  stew.      "  Nice  old   person,"  said 


*  Stream  beds. 


f  Dishwasher. 


X  Fowl. 


44 


nil'.  SI  Mr  I.I:  .inri:.\  rch'i.s  of  a  M/:M.s.iiiin. 


'  .11 


ii 


Helen,  tlio  first  timo  it  a[)iH'{iiV(l,  ''lie  lias  fjiven  iis  fowl  !  Dear 
old  })atriar(;li."  ''  lie  may  or  may  not  bo  a  dear  old  patriarcli," 
(Jcortrc  ri'spondcd,  lixiiiL,^  _i,n'im  eyes  ii[)oii  tlu;  bird, '' hut  bo  is 
tolerably  sure  to  have  tbo  obaraeteristics  of  ono.  You  arou't  ac- 
(inaiiiti'd  witb  tbo  iiidi<^eiious  moorgby  yet,  Holon.  Voii  regard 
bim  ill  ibe  li'dit  of  a  liixiirv,  as  if  be  woro  a  Cbristian  fowl.  Ho 
isn't  a  luxury  out  lioro  uj)()n  my  word.  Ho  stalks  uj)  and  down 
all  over  India  improving  bis  musoular  tissues,  bo  doesn't  disdain 
to  pick  from  a  drain,  bo  costs  tbrooponco  to  buy.  JSbc  is  an  in- 
ferior croaturo  still.  It  mtiy  bo  a  })r('ju(lico  of  mino,  but  if 
tberci's  any  otbor  form  of  sustenance  to  bo  bad  I  don't  oat 
moorgby." 

"  Uo  tastos,"  said  ]\lrs.  Browno  after  experiment,  "  like  an 
'  indostructiblo  '  picture-book."  It  vvas  an  unwarrantable  sinulo 
ii})on  Mrs.  Browne's  part,  since  sbo  could  not  i)ossibiy  remond)er 
tbo  flavour  of  tbo  literature  sbo  used  to  suck  as  an  infant;  but 
bor  verdict  was  never  reversed,  and  so  ono  Indian  staple  passed 
Gilt  of  tlie  domestic  experiences  of  tbo  Rrownes. 

Tbese  two  young  people  bad  unlimited  conversation,  and  one 
of  tliem  a  great  many  more  cigars  tban  were  good  for  bim.  So 
far  as  I  bave  been  al)le  to  discover,  by  way  of  diversion  tbey  liad 
notbing  else.  It  bad  not  occurred  to  eillier  of  tbom  tliat  tbe 
equipment  of  a  boneymoon  required  any  novels;  juid  tbe  dak- 
bungalow  was  not  provided  witb  current  liction.  Tbey  covered 
an  extensive  range  of  subjects,  tberefore,  as  tbey  tbougbt,  ex- 
baustively.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  tbeir  conversation  was  so  sujier- 
ficial  in  its  'nature,  and  led  to  sucli  trivial  conclusions,  tbat  I  do 
not  propose  to  repeat  it.  Tbey  wore  very  unanimous  always. 
Young  Browne  declared  tbat  if  bis  views  bad  babitually  received 
tbe  unqualified  assent  wbicli  Helen  gave  tbem  be  would  have 
been  a  nu'mber  of   the  Viceroy's  Council  years   before.     Tbey 


////•;  SI  Mr  1. 1:  ADVEX  rm-.s  or  a  MEMSAiiir, 


45 


could  not  SUV  cnouj^'h  in  praise  of  the  air  <»l*  I'ataporc,  aiul  wlu'ii 
till'  wind  rose  it  blew  tliein  into  an  ecstasy.  Fre(juentlv  they 
(liseiissed  the  supreme  advanta'a'S  of  u  dak-bunLrah)\v  for  a  honev- 
uuton,  uutl  then  it  was  sonieliiing  like  this  on  the  afternoon  of 
tile  third  day. 

''  The  perfect  freedoni  of  it,  you  know — the  bein<,'  able  to 
Huioke  with  one's  legs  on  the  table " 

"•Yes,  di'ar.  I  love  to  see  vou  d(»ii)<j  it.  It's  so — it's  po 
lioint'-liku  ! "  (I  think  I  see  the  Ucv.  IVaehev  with  his  le-rs 
u])on  the  table!)  Then,  with  suddi-n  animation,  "  I)o  you 
know,  (Jeorge,  I  think  I  heard  boxes  coming  into  the  next 
room  ! " 

"Not  at  all,  Helen.  Vou  didn't,  I'm  sure  you  didn't.  And 
then  the  absolute  silence  of  this  place " 

'•'•  Lovely,  (leorge  I  And  that's  how  I  heard  the  boxes  so  dis- 
tinctly." (Jetting  u])  and  going  softly  to  the  wall — "(leorge, 
there  are  peo])le  in  there!" 

"  Blow  the  peo])le !  However,  they  baven't  got  anything  to 
do  with  us." 

"  Hut  i)erliaps — perhai)s  you  know  them,  Cicorge  !" 

"  Most  ])iously  I  hope  I  don't.  iMit  never  mind,  darling. 
AVe  can  easily  keep  out  of  the  way,  in  any  case.  We  won't  let 
them  spoil  it  for  us." 

"X-no,  dear,  we  won't.  Certainly  not.  But  you'll  find  out 
who  they  are,  won't  you,  Cleordie  !  Ask  the  khansamuh,  just  for 
the  sake  of  knowing  !  " 

"  Oh,  we'll  find  out  who  thev  are  fast  enouirh.  But  don't  be 
distressed,  darling.  It  will  be  the  simplest  thing  in  the  world 
to  avoid  them." 

"  Of  course  it  will,"  ^Frs.  Browne  responded.  "  But  I 
think,  George  dear,  I  really  must  put  on  my  tailor-made  this 


rr^ 


I" 


46 


THE    SIMPLE   ADl'EXTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


illi 


afternoon  in  case  wo  should  come  in  contact  m  itli  tlicni  in  any 


wav. 


"  We   won't,"    iv])lic(l    (leorgc,   cheerfully    lighting   another 


cigar. 


To  which  Mrs.  Browne  replied  without  seeming  relevance, 
"I  consider  it  perfectly  shameful  for  dak-bungalows  to  have 
no  looking-glasses." 

An  hour  later  Helen  flew  in  from  the  veranda.  "  Oh, 
George,  I've  seen  them :  two  men  and  a  lady  and  a  black  and 
white  dog — spotted  !  Quite  nice,  respectable-looking  people,  all 
of  them  !     They  walked  past  our  veranda." 

"  Confound  their  impudence  !     Did  they  look  in  ?  " 

"  The  dog  did." 

"  None  of  the  rest  ?     V7  '\  dear,  which  way  did  tliey  go  ?  " 

Helen  indicated  a  south-easterly  direction  and  the  Brownes 
that  evening  walked  almost  directly  north,  "•, ith  perhaps  a  point 
or  two  to  the  west,  and  did  not  return  nntil  it  was  quite  dark. 

The  fourth  day  after  breakfast,  a  stranger  entered  the  veran- 
da without  invitation.  lie  was  clad  chiefly  in  a  turban  and 
loin  cloth,  and  on  his  head  he  bore  a  large  tin  box.  He  had  an 
attendant,  much  like  him,  but  wearing  a  dirtier  loin-cloth,  and 
bearing  a  bigger  box. 

"  Oh  !  who  is  it  ?  "  Helen  cried. 

"  It's  one  of  those  wretched  box-wallahs,  dear — a  kind  of 
pedlar.     I'll  send  him  off.     Hujao*  you  !" 

"  Oh,  no^  George  !  Let  us  see  what  he  has  to  sell,"  Helen  in- 
terposed with  interest;  and  immediately  the  man  was  on  the 
floor  untying  iiis  cords. 

"  My  darling,  yon  can't  want  anything  from  him  !  " 

*  He  off! 


THE    SLUr/.K   ADVEXTl'RES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


47 


*^  Heaps  oi  things — 1  sluill  know  us  soon  as  I  sco  wluit  lie's 
got,  dear!  To  begin  with,  there's  a  lead  pencil  I  So  far  as  I 
know  I  haven't  a  lead  pencil  in  the  world.  I'll  take  that  lead 
pencil!  Soap?  No,  I  think  not,  thank  you.  Do  tell  me  what 
he  says,  CJeorge.  Elastic — the  very  thing  I  wanted.  And  tape? 
Please  ask  him  if  he's  got  any  tape.  Tooth-brushes — what  do 
you  think,  George  ? '' 

"  Xot  tooth-brushes !  "  her  lord  protested,  as  one  who  en- 
dures.    "  They  may  be  second-hand,  dear." 

'■^  Oh  !  No!  Here,  take  them  back,  please!  IJihbon — have 
von  anv  narrow  pale  blue?  That's  (t/jo/il  right,  if  you've  noth- 
inir  better.  Hooks  and  eves  are  ahvavs  useful.  So  are  mixed 
l)ins  and  sewing  cotton.  I  can't  say  I  tliink  much  of  these 
towels,  George,  they're  very  thin — still  we  shall  iiuoif  towels." 

Mrs.  Browne  was  quite  pink  with  excitement,  and  her  eyes 
glistened.  She  became  all  at  once  animated  and  eager,  a  joy  of 
her  sex  was  upon  her,  and  unex})ect(^dly.  Tiie  box-walUih  was 
an  Event,  and  an  Event  is  a  thing  much  to  be  desired,  even  in 
one's  honeymoon.  This  lady  had  previously  and  has  since  made 
purchases  much  more  interesting  and  considerably  nun*e  ex})en- 
sive  than  those  that  fell  in  her  M'ay  at  Patapore  ;  but  I  doubt 
whether  any  of  them  afTorded  her  a  tenth  of  the  satisfaction. 
She  turned  over  every  one  of  the  box- wallah's  commonplaces, 
trusting  to  find  a  need  for  it.  Slie  laid  ombroidered  ed!j:ing 
down  unwillingly,  and  put  aside  handkerchiefs  and  hosiery  with 
a  sigh,  pangs  of  conscience  arising  from  a  trousseau  just  un- 
packed. But  it  Avas  astonishing  how  valuably  supplementary 
that  box- wallah's  stores  appeared  to  be.  llelcn  declared,  for  in- 
stance, that  she  never  would  have  thought  of  Persian  morning 
slippers,  which  she  has  never  yet  been  able  to  wear,  if  she  had 
not  seen  them  tliere,  and  this  I  can  believe. 


i»i  ; 


48         THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB, 

The  transaction  occupied  tlie  best  part  of  two  hours,  during 
whicli  young  Browne  behaved  very  well,  smoking  quietly,  and 
only  interfe]-ing  once,  on  the  score  of  some  neckties  for  himself. 
And  when  Helen  remonstrated  that  everything  seemed  to  be  for 
her,  he  begged  her  to  believe  that  he  really  didn't  mind — ho 
didn't  feel  acquisitive  tht't  morniiig;  she  mustn't  consider  him. 
To  which  Helen  gave  regretful  compliance,  for  the  box-wallah 
had  a  large  stock  of  gentlemen's  email  wares.  In  the  end  Mr. 
Browne  paid  the  box-wallah,  in  a  mattorly  manner,  something 
over  a  third  of  his  total  demand,  "which  he  accepted,  to  Helen's 
astonishment,  -with  only  a  perfunctory  demur,  and  straight 
away  put  his  box  on  his  head  and  departed.  About  which  time 
young  Brownc'c  bearer  came  with  respectful  inquiry  as  to 
which  train  he  would  jiack  tiieir  joint  elfects  for  on  the  morrow. 
This  is  an  invariable  terminal  j^ioint  for  honeymoons  in  India. 


Ml :  1 


%i 


I 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OE  A    M EM SA ////',. 


49 


^'V  is  time,  perhaps,  to  state  a 
few  facts  about  Mr.  (Jeorge 
William  lirownc  in  addi- 
tion to  those  which  are  in 
the  reader's  possession  al- 
ready. T  have  mentioned, 
I  think,  that  he  played 
tennis  badly  and  was  fond 
of  privacy;  it  runs  in  my 
mind  also  that  I  have  in 
some  way  conveyed  to  you 
that  ho  is  a  rather  short 
and  thickly  built  young 
gentleman,  with  brown  eyes 
and  a  dark  moustache,  and 
a  sallow  complexion  and  a  broad  smile.  Helen  declares  him 
handsome,  and  I  never  considered  him  un}»leasant-looking,  but 
it  is  undoubtedly  the  case  that  he  is  very  like  other  young  men 
in  Calcutta,  also  clerks  in  tea  and  indigo  houses  on  five  hundred 
rupees  a  month,  with  the  expectation  of  partnership  whenever 
retirement  or  fever  shall  remove  a  head  of  the  firm.  Ilis  tastes 
were  common  to  Calcutta  young  men  also.  He  liked  golf  and 
polo,  and  regretted  that  his  pony  was  not  up  to  the  paper-chases; 
in  literature  he  preferred  Clark  Kussell  and  the  Pioneer^  with 


I'Tl!! 


50 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


Lord  Lytton  for  serious  moments.  He  complied  with  the  cus- 
toms of  the  Cathedral  to  the  extent  of  a  silk  hat  and  u  i)air  of 
gloves  in  the  cold  weather,  and  usually  attended  one  service 
every  Sunday,  invariably  contributing  eight  annas  to  the  oiTer- 
tory.  His  political  creed  was  simj)le.  He  believed  in  India  for 
the  Anglo-Indians,  and  despised  the  teaching  and  hated  the  in- 
fluence, with  sturdy  reasons,  of  Exeter  Hall.  Any  views  that  he 
had  of  real  imjiortance  mainly  concerned  the  propagation  of  tea 
in  distant  markets;  but  his  spare  ideas  had  a  crispness  that  gave 
them  value  in  a  society  inclined  to  be  intellectually  limp,  and 
his  nature  was  sufficiently  cheerful  and  sympathetic  to  make 
him  popular,  in  connectiou  with  the  fact  that  he  was  undeniably 
a  good  fellow. 

When  all  this  has  been  said,  I  fear  that  Mr.  Browne  will  not 
appear  in  these  pages  with  the  equipment  proper  for  a  young 
man  of  whom  anything  is  expected  in  the  nature  of  modern 
fiction.  Perhaps  this,  however,  is  not  so  important  as  it  looks, 
which  will  be  more  evident  when  we  reflect  that  in  marrying 
Miss  Helen  Francis  Peachey  Mr.  Browne  performed  considerably 
the  greater  part  of  what  will  be  required  of  him  in  this  history. 

That  Young  Browne's  tuluh  *  was  only  five  hundred  rupees 
a  month  is,  however,  a  fact  of  serious  importance  both  to  the 
Brownes  and  to  the  readers  of  these  chapters.  It  must  be  borne 
in  mind,  even  as  the  Brownes  bore  it  in  mind,  to  the  proper 
unc^.erstanding  of  the  unpretending  matters  herein  referred  to. 
There  are  parts  of  the  world  in  which  this  amount  translated 
into  the  local  currency,  would  make  a  plutocrat  of  its  recipient. 
Even  in  Calcutta,  in  the  olden  golden  time  when  the  rupee  was 
worth  two  invariable  shillings  and  the  stockbroker  waxed  not  so 


Pay. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTUKES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


51 


flit  as  now,  there  was  a  sweet  reasonableness  about  an  income  of 
five  liundred  that  does  not  exist  to-day.  'I'liere  is  no  doubt,  for 
one  thing,  tliat  at  tluit  time  it  did  not  cost  so  much  to  live  in  a 
house.  At  the  present  time,  and  in  view  of  the  degeneracy  of 
the  coin,  that  luxurv  is  not  so  easy  to  eom])ass  as  it  used  to  be. 

The  Brownes  would  live  in  a  house,  however.  Young 
Browne,  when  the  matter  was  up  for  discussion,  stated  with 
some  vehemence  his  objection  to  the  Calcutta  system  of  private 
hostelries.  Helen  said  conclusively  that  if  they  had  no  other 
reason  for  housekeeping,  there  were  those  lovely  dessert  knives 
and  forks  from  Aunt  Plovtree,  and  all  the  other  silver  things 
from  i)eople,  to  say  nothing  of  the  comj)lete  sui)j)ly  of  house 
and  table  linen,  ready  marked  with  an  artistically  intertwined 
"  IIB."  In  the  face  of  this,  to  use  other  people's  cutlery  and 
table  napkins  would  be  foolish  extravagance — didn't  George 
think  so?  George  thought  so,  very  decidedly,  that  was  quite  a 
strong  point.  It  must  be  a  whole  house,  too,  and  not  a  ilat ; 
there  was  no  autonomy  in  a  flat  and  no  proprietorshi])  of  the 
compound  ;  moreover,  you  were  always  meeting  the  other  j)eo- 
ple  on  the  stairs.  By  all  means  a  liouse  to  themselves — "  if  pos- 
sible," added  young  Browne. 

"About  what  rent  does  one  pay  for  a  house?"  Helen  in- 
quired. 

"You  get  a  fairly  good  one  for  three  hundred  a  month,  on 
lease.  A  visiting  Raiah  down  for  the  cold  weather  to  try  for  a 
'  C.  I.  E.'  *  sometimes  pays  a  thousand." 

"But  we,"  responded  Mrs.  Browne  blankly,  "are  not  Rajahs, 
dear!" 

"  \o,  thank  the  Lord,"  said   Mr.  Browne,  with  what  struck 


Companion  of  the  Indian  Empire, 


If 


m 


\ 


r 

ft  ' 

f. 

i 

-.1 

1 

52  7'//A    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 

his  wife  as  iimiecussjiry  piety;  "  und  we'll  in  Jike  ourselves  jolly 
comfortable  iiotwitlistaiidiiig.  Nelliims — you'll  see!"  George 
Browne  was  always  over-optimistic.  If  those  two  young  people 
had  come  to  me — but  it  goes  without  saying  that  they  went  to 
nobody. 

Helen  desired  a  garden,  a  tennis-court,  and,  if  possible,  a 
cocoanut  i)alm-tree  in  the  garden.  She  would  prefer  a  yellow 
house  to  a  ])ink  one,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  houses  were  all 
yellow  or  pink,  and  she  would  like  a  few  pillars  in  front  of  it — 
j)illars  seemed  so  common  an  architectural  incident  in  Calcutta 

* 

that  she  thought  they  must  be  cheap.  ^Ir.  JJrowno  particularly 
wanted  air  in  the  house,  "  a  good  south  veranda,"  and  a  domi- 
cile well  raised  above  its  native  Bengal.  Mr.  Browne  was  strong 
upon  locality  and  drains,  and  the  non-proximity  of  jungle  and 
bushes.  Helen  bowed  to  his  superior  knowledge,  but  secretly 
longed  that  a  garden  with  a  cocoanut  })ahn  in  it  might  be  found 
in  a  neighbourhood  not  insanitary.  And  so  they  fared  forth 
daily  in  a  ticca-gharry  to  inspect  desirable  addresses. 

They  inspected  many.  There  was  no  unnecessary  formality 
about  permission  to  look,  no  "  Enquire  of  Messrs.  So  and  So," 
no  big  key  to  procure  from  anywhere.  The  ticca-gharry* 
stopped,  and  they  alighted.  If  the  high  wooden  gates  were 
closed,  Mr.  Browne  beat  npon  them  lustily  with  his  stick,  shout- 
ing, "Qui  hai!"f  in  tones  of  severe  authority.  Then,  usually 
from  a  small  and  dingy  domicile  near  the  gate,  issued  a  figure 
hastily,  a  lean,  brown  figure,  in  a  dirty  dhoty,  that  salaamed  per- 
functorily, and  stood  before  them  waiting. 

"  Iska  gliur  kali  hai  ?  "  J  Mr.  Browne  would  inquire  and  the 
figure  would  answer,  "  Ila  !  " 


*  Hired  carriage. 


f  Whoever  is 


X  Is  this  house  empty  f 


1 


nil':  S/MPIJ-:  ADVExirRES  of  a  memsaiiih. 


53 


Wlicrcjit,  witlioiit  furtluT  parley,  the  lirownes  woukl  enter 
tlie  phice  Jiiul  be^j^iu  to  express  tlieir  iiiinds  about  it.  (ieiierally 
it  invited  criticism.  If  the  previous  saliib  Iiad  been  but  tiiree 
weeks  (lei)arted  the  place  had  an  overgrown  look,  the  bushes 
were  unkempt,  the  grass  ragged  ;  there  were  cracks  in  the  mor- 
tar and  stains  on  the  walls;  within  it  smelt  of  desolation.  Helen 
investigated  daintily  ;  it  looked,  she  said,  so  very  "snaky."  The 
general  features  of  one  house  were  very  like  the  general  features 
of  another;  that  is  to  say,  their  disadvantages  were  fairly  equal. 
They  all  had  jungly  eompoun<ls,  they  were  all  more  or  less  tum- 
ble-down, all  in  fashionable  Eurasian  neighbourhoods,  and  all  at 
least  lifty  ru])ees  a  nu)nth  more  than  the  Brownes  could  alford  to 
pay.  Helen  found  some  a'sthetic  charm,  and  young  lirowne 
some  objectionable  odour  in  every  one  of  them.  She,  one  might 
say,  used  nothing  but  her  eyes,  he  nothing  but  his  nose.  With 
regard  to  the  attractions  of  one  address  in  particular  thev  came 
almost  to  a  dilTerence  of  opinion.  It  was  a  bungalow,  and  it  sat 
down  flatly  in  a  luxuriant  tangle  of  beaumontia,  and  bougain- 
villiers,  and  trailing  columbine.  It  had  a  veraiula  all  nmnd- 
about,  and  the  veraiula  was  a  bower  of  creejiing  things.  Not 
oidycocoanut  palms,  but  date  palms,  and  areca  palms,  and  toddy 
palms  grew  in  the  corners  of  the  com})ound  with  hibiscus  bushes 
all  in  crimson  flower  along  the  wall,  a  banyan  tree  in  the  middle, 
and  two  luxuriant  peepuls,  one  on  each  side,  almost  meeting 
over  the  roof  of  the  house.  The  walls  and  pilhirs  of  the  bunga- 
low were  in  delicate  tones  of  grey  and  green  ;  close  behind  it 
were  all  the  picturesque  features  of  a  native  bustee,  and  immedi- 
ately in  front  a  lovely  reflection  of  the  sky  lay  in  a  mossy  tank  in 
places  where  the  water  was  deep  enough.  The  rent  was  moder- 
ate :  it  had  been  empty  a  long  time. 

"  George!  "  Helen  exclaimed,  "  it  has  been  waiting  for  us." 


54 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAHIR. 


\. 


George  demurred.  "  It's  fur  and  away  the  worst  place  we've 
seen,"  he  remarked. 

"  I  think  it's  perfectly  sweet,"  his  wife  maintained. 

"If  we  took  it,"  he  returned  imi)la('ably,  "within  three 
months  two  funerals  would  occur  in  this  neighbourhood  :  one 
would  be  yours  and  one  would  be  mine.  I  don't  speak  of  the 
mortality  among  the  servants.  I'll  just  ask  the  durwan*  how 
many  sahibs  have  died  here  lately.  And  he  asked  the  durwan  in 
his  own  tongue. 

"  He  says  three  in  the  last  family,  and  it  was  the  '  carab  bimar,' 
which  is  the  bad  sickness  or  the  cholera,  my  dear.  What  a  fool  of 
a  durwan  to  leave  in  charge  of  an  empty  house !  If  you  still 
think  you'd  like  to  have  it,  Helen,  we  can  inquire " 

"  Oh,  no  !  "  Helen  cried.     "  Let  ns  go  away  ctt  once  !  " 

"  I  was  going  to  say — at  the  nndertaker's  for  additional  ac- 
commodation. But  perhaps  we  had  better  not  take  it.  Let's  try 
for  something  clean." 

I  consider  that  the  Brownes  were  very  lucky  in  the  end. 
They  found  a  house  in  a  suburban  locality  where  a  number  of 
Europeans  had  already  survived  for  several  years,  at  a  rent  they 
thought  they  could  afford  by  careful  managing.  It  turned  its  face 
aside  from  the  street  .and  looked  towards  the  south  ;  sitting  on  its 
roof,  they  could  see  far  across  those  many-laned  jungle  suburbs 
where  the  office  baboo  f  lives,  and  whither  the  sahibs  go  only  on 
horseback.  The  palm  fronds  waved  thick  there,  fringing  the  red 
sky  duskily  when  the  sun  went  down.  The  compound  was 
neglected,  but  had  sanitary  possibilities;  there  was  enough  grass 
for  a  tennis-court  and  enough  space  for  a  garden.  A  low  line  of 
godowns  ran  round  two  sides  of  it,  where  the  servants  might  live 


*  Doorkeeper. 


f  Native  clerk. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTCRES  OE  A    MEMSAIllB. 


55 


anil  tlio  pony.  Palms  {ind  plantains  ^^wws  in  the  corners.  It 
was  very  tropical,  and  it  was  inclosed  hy  a  wall  coloured  to 
match  the  house,  in  the  cracks  of  which  sprouted  every  green 
thing.  The  house  itself  was  pink,  which  Helen  declared  her 
one  disappointment :  she  preferred  tlie  yellow  ones  so  much. 
Inside  it  was  chiefly  light  green,  stencilled  in  yellow  by  way  of 
dadoes,  which  must  have  been  trying,  though  Helen  never  a<l- 
mitted  it.  There  were  other  peculiarities.  The  rafters  curved 
downwards  and  the  floor  sloped  toward  the  middle  and  in  vari- 
ous other  directions.  In  several  places  trailing  decorations  in 
mud  had  been  arranged  by  white  ants.  None  of  the  doors  had 
locks  or  bolts  ;  they  all  opened  inwards  and  were  fastened  from 
the  inside  with  movable  bars.  The  outermost  room  luul  twelve 
French  windows;  the  innermost  room  had  no  windows  and  was 
quite  dark  when  its  doors  were  shut.  Irregular  holes  appeared 
at  intervals  over  the  wall  for  the  accommodation  of  punkah-ropes, 
each  tenant  having  fancied  a  different  seat  outside  for  his  pun- 
kah-wallah. Two  or  three  small  apartments  upstairs  in  the  rear 
of  the  house  had  corners  divided  otf  by  partitions  about  six 
inches  high.  These  were  bath-rooms,  arranged  on  the  simple 
principle  of  upsetting  the  bath-tub  on  the  floor  and  letting  the 
water  run  out  of  a  hole  in  the  wall  inside  the  partition,  Most 
of  the  windows  had  glass  in  them,  but  not  all,  and  some  were 
protected  by  iron  bars,  the  domestic  coiulitions  inside  lujving 
been  originally  Aryan  and  jealous. 

I  do  not  wish  it  to  be  supposed  from  these  details,  that  the 
Brownes  were  subjected  to  exceptional  hiirdships,  or  took  up 
housekeeping  under  particularly  obscure  circumstances.  On  the 
contrary,  so  few  people  with  their  income  in  Calcutta  could 
afford  to  live  in  houses  at  all,  that  young  Browne  had  his  name 
put  np   on   the  gatepost   with  considerable  pride   and   circum- 


so 


THE   SIMPLE   ADl'KXTLKES   OF  A    MEMSAIllIi. 


Htaiico.  "(!('()r<xo  W.  lirowiio,"  in  white  letters  on  ii  black 
j^roiuid,  ill  tlie  middle  of  an  ol)lon<;  wooden  tablet,  ae(;ordiii«;  to 
the  eustoni  of  the  place,  'i'iie  fact  beinjjj  that  the  charaeteristicrf 
of  tlie  Urownes'  house  are  coninion,  in  jjjreater  or  less  de_L,n'ee,  to 
every  house  in  (-alcutta.  1  venture  to  say  that  even  tlie  tub  of  a 
Member  of  Council,  on  live  thousaiul  rui)ees  a  month,  is  dis- 
char<(ed  through  a  hole  in  the  waih 

Perha])S  their  lamilord  was  more  or  less  unique.  The  land- 
lord common  to  Calcutta  is  a  prosperous  Jew,  a  brocaded  liajah, 
at  least  an  unctuous  baboo  fattened  upon  dhol-bat  and  ehutiu'V. 
The  lirownes'  landlord  wore  a  pair  of  dirty  wliite  trousers  and  a 
lean  and  hungry  look,  his  upj)er  })arts  being  clad  in  yards  of 
soiled  cotton,  in  which  he  also  mulllcd  u})  his  head,  lie  fol- 
lowed them  about  tlie  place  in  silent  humility — they  took  him 
for  a  coolie,  and  young  lirowne  treated  his  statements  with 
brevity,  turiung  a  broad  liritish  back  upon  him.  I  don't  think 
this  enhanced  the  rent ;  I  fancy  it  would  have  been  equally  ex- 
tortionate in  any  case.  But  it  was  only  when  ^Ir.  lirowne  asked 
where  the  landlord  was  to  be  found  that  he  proudly  disclosed  his 
identity,  Avitli  apologetic;  reference,  however,  to  the  state  of  his 
attire.  He  said  that  his  house  had  been  vacant  for  many 
months,  and  that  he  had  just  spent  a  thousand  rupees  in  repair- 
ing it.  His  prospective  tenant  accepted  the  first  of  these  state- 
nu),i^s,  and  received  the  second  with  open  laughter.  They 
closed  the  bargain,  however,  and  as  the  landlord  occupied  an 
adjoining  bustee,  and  was  frequently  to  be  met  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, ^Irs.  Browne  was  for  some  time  uncertain  as  to  whether  she 
ought  to  bow  to  him  or  not. 


f 


\^ 


f 


O 

o 


o 


c 

§ 

o 
u 

u 


H 

be: 
u 
o 
y. 

u 

H 

U 

O 
w 

O 
[I. 

cr. 

■< 


X. 


3i 
S 


58 


THE   SIMPI.E  Ani'EXTL'NES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


:  ki 


(ilAPTKH    VI. 


TIIKRK  iiro  51  iiumbor  of  wjivh  of  funiisliiiii:^  a  house  in  Cal- 
(uitta.  I,  who  liuvo  known  tlie  ins  and  outs  of  tlic  place 
for  twenty  odd  years,  luive  learned  the  unsatisfactoriness  of  all  of 
them,  and  am  ])re})ared  to  explain.  You  can  be  elaborately  done 
up  by  a  fine  M((/i  upholsterer,  who  will  provide  you  with  spin- 
dle-legged ohairs  in  velvet  brocade,  and  a'sthetic  window  cur- 
tains with  faded  pink  roses  on  them,  everything  only  about  six 
months  beliind  the  TiOndon  shops,  with  prices  liowever  consider- 
ably in  advance.  This  way  is  popular  with  Viceroys.  Or  you 
may  go  to  the  ordinary  shops  and  get  Westbourne  Grove  sorts  of 
things  only  slightly  d(»preciated  as  to  value  and  slightly  en- 
hanced as  to  cost,  paying  cash — a  way  usually  adopted  by  people 
of  no  imagination.  Or  you  may  attend  the  auction  sale  that 
speeds  the  departure  of  some  home-going  memsahib,  and  buy 
lier  effects  for  a  song :  but  that  must  be  at  the  beginning  of  the 
hot  weather,  when  the  migration  of  memsahibs  occurs.  Or  you 
can  go  to  Bow  Bazar,  where  all  things  are  of  honourable  an- 
tiquity, and  there  purchase  pathetic  three-legged  memorials  of 
old  Calcutta,  springless  oval-backed  sofas  that  once  upheld  the 
ponderous  dignity  of  the  East  India  Company,  tarnished  mirrors 
which  may  have  reflected  the  wanton  charms  of  Madame  Le 
Grand.  Baboos  sell  them,  taking  knowledge  only  of  their  out- 
ward persons  and  their  present  utility ;  and  they  stand  huddled 
in  little  hot  low-roofed  shops,  intimate  with  the  common  teak- 


I' 


, 


rur.  siMPi.r.  AnvEXTVREs  or  ./  Mi:Ms.\iiin.      59 

wood  tliin<,'s  of  y^'stcrdiiy,  roiidesooiKHuf?  to  <;jnuly  .Ijqmiioso  vases 
iiiid  ny-l)Io\vM  coloured  prints  and  cracked  lamps  and  mis- 
niatched  crockery,  how  liazar  is  not  always  had  and  it  is  al- 
ways cheap,  ^M-antin<(  soinct  [)revious  experience  of  hahoo  morals, 
and  the  proprietors  charge  you  nothing'  for  the  poetry  of  your 
bar<;ain.  'I'hey  set  it  ol!,  perliaps,  apiinst  necessary  repairs. 
This  is  not  a  popular  way,  as  the  haboos  will  testify,  hut  it  is  a 
pleasing  one,  and  it  is  the  way  the  Hrownes  took  in  tlu;  main, 
supplementing'  these  jdenishings  with  a  few  from  the  Chiiui 
r»azar,  where  a  multitude  of  the  almond-eyed  sell  you  wicker 
chairs  and  tables. 

It  is  a  divinely  simidc  thing  to  furnish  a  house  in  India.  It 
must  be  cleaned  and  it  must  be  iiuitted.  This  is  d<jne  in  a  cer- 
tain number  of  liours  while  you  sleep,  or  ride,  or  walk,  or  take 
your  })leasure,  by  a  (Jod  of  Immediate  Results,  whom  you  collo- 
quially dub  the  "  bearer,"  working  through  an  invisible  agency 
of  coolies.  Then  you  may  go  and  live  in  it  with  two  chairs  and 
a  table  if  you  like,  and  people  will  only  think  you  have  a  some- 
what immoderate  hatred  of  hangings  and  furniture  and  other  ob- 
stacles to  the  free  circulation  of  air.  This  you  might  easily  pos- 
sess to  an  extreme,  and  nobodv  will  consider  vou  anv  the  worse 
for  it.  I  should  have  added  an  "  almirah  "  to  the  list  of  your 
necessaries,  however.  You  would  be  criticised  if  y(Ki  had  not 
one  or  more  almirahs.  An  almirah  is  a  wardrobe,  unless  it  con- 
tains shelves  instefid  of  hooks,  and  then  it  is  a  tall  cupboard  with 
doors.  Almirahs,  therefore,  receive  all  your  personal  property, 
from  a  dressing-gown  to  a  box  of  sardines,  and  it  is  not  possible 
to  live  decently  or  respectably  in  India  without  them.  lint  the 
rest  is  at  your  good  pleasure,  and  nobody  will  expect  you  to  have 
anything  but  plated  forks  and  bazar  china.  Outward  circum- 
stance lies  not  in  these  things,  but  in  the  locality  of  your  resi- 


6o 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEKTUKES  OP  A    MPMSAIIIP. 


dence  Jind  the  size  of  your  conii)ound.  If  you  wish  to  add  to 
your  dignity,  buy  another  pony ;  if  you  wisli  to  enliance  it,  let 
tlic  pony  1)0  a  horse  and  the  horse  a  Waler.  But  tliink  not  to 
aggrandize  yourself  in  the  eyes  of  your  fellow  Anglo-Indians  by 
treasures  of  Chippendale  or  of  Sevres,  by  rare  tapestries  or  mod- 
ern masters,  or  even  a  piano.  Dust  and  the  mosquitos  and  the 
monsoon  war  against  all  these  things ;  l)ut  chiefly  our  incon- 
stancy to  the  country.  We  are  in  conscious  exile  here  for 
twenty  or  twenty-five  years,  and  there  is  a  general  theory  that 
it  is  too  hot  and  too  expensive  to  make  the  exile  any  more 
than  comfortable.  Beside  which,  do  we  not  pass  a  quarter 
of  our  existence  in  the  cabins  of  the  P.  and  0.  ?  But  I 
must  not  digress  from  the  Brownes'  experiences  to  my  own 
opinions. 

The  Brownes'  ticca- gharry  turned  into  Bow  Bazar  out  of 
Chowringhee,  out  of  Calcutta's  pride  among  her  thoroughfares, 
broad  and  clean,  and  facing  the  wide  green  ]\[aidan,  lined  with 
European  shops,  and  populous  with  the  gharries  *  of  the  sahibs, 
into  the  narrow  crookedness  of  the  native  city,  where  the  pro- 
prietors are  all  Baboo  This,  or  Slieik  That,  who  sit  upon  the 
thresholds  of  their  establishments  smoking  the  peaceful  hubble- 
bubble,  and  waiting  ;intil  it  please  Allah  or  Lakshmi  to  send 
them  a  customer.  Very  manifold  are  the  wants  that  Bow 
Bazar  provides  for,  wants  of  the  sahib,  of  the  "  kala  sahib,"  f 
of  its  own  swarming  population.  You  can  buy  a  suit  of  clothes 
there — oh,  very  cheap — or  a  seer  of  rice  ;  all  sorts  of  publications 
in  English,  Bengali,  and  Urdu ;  a  beautiful  oil  painting  for  a 
rupee,  a  handful  of  sticky  native  sweetmeats  for  a  pice.  You 
can  have  your  beard  shaved,  your  horoscope  cast,  your  photo- 


*  Carriages. 


\  "  Black  sahibs,"  i.  c.  Eurasians. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


6i 


I. 


graph  taken,  all  at  a  rate  -vhich  will  deeply  astonish  you. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  noise  in  the  Bow  Bazar,  coming 
chiefly  from  strenuous  brown  throats,  a  great  deal  of  dust,  a 
great  number  and  variety  of  ocours.  But  there  the  sahib-lok, 
in  the  midst  of  luxury,  can  i  njoy  economy — and  you  can't 
have  everything. 

The  sellers  of  sahib's  fnrni*^ure  have  the  largest  shops  in  Bow 
Bazar,  and  the  heaviest  stock ;  they  are  important  among  the 
merchants;  they  often  speak  a  little  English.  The  baboo  to 
whom  the  Brownes  first  addressed  themselves  had  this  accom- 
plishment, and  he  wore  the  dual  European  garment  of  white 
duck,  and  a  coat.  He  was  a  short  baboo,  very  black,  with  a 
round  face  so  expressive  of  a  sense  of  humour  that  young 
Browne  remarked  to  Helen  privately  that  he  was  sure  the  fellow 
had  some  Eurojiean  blood  in  him,  in  spite  of  the  colour — no 
pukka  Bengali  ever  grinned  like  that ! 

"  What  iss  it,  sir,  that  it  iss  your  wish  to  buy?"  he  inquired. 
He  spoke  so  rapidly  that  his  words  seemed  the  output  of  one 
breath ;  yet  they  were  perfectly  distinct.  It  is  the  manner  of 
the  native  who  speaks  English,  and  the  East  Indians  have  bor- 
rowed it  from  him. 

"  Oh !  we  want  to  buy  a  lot  of  things.  Baboo ! "  said  Mr. 
Browne,  familiarly,  "  at  half  your  regular  prices,  and  a  large  dis- 
count for  cash  !     What  have  you  got  ?     Got  any  chairs?  " 

"  Oh  yess  indeed  ;    certainlee  !     Will  you  please  to  come  this 


wav 


.9  " 


«  Tl 


This  way "  led  through  a  labyrinth  of  furniture,  new  and 
old,  of  glass  and  crockery  and  chipped  ornaments,  a  dusty  haven 
of  dismayed  household  gods.  "What  have  you  got  in  there, 
Baboo?"  asked  young  Browne,  as  they  passed  an  almirah  reveal- 
ing rows  of  tins  and  labels. 


t 


I 

,1 
I 

I 


1" 

!| 


'1 

it 


*l 


62  ^'//A'    SIMPLE  ADVEXTCRES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB, 

"  Stores,  sir, — verrce  best  qiuilitty  stores.  You  can  see  fo' 
you'self,  sir — Crosse  an'  Jilackwell "  '* 

"  Oh  yes,  Baboo !  Aiul  how  long  did  you  say  they'd  been 
there  ? " 

"  Onlee  one  month,  sir,"  tlie  baboo  replied,  attempting  an  ex- 
pression of  surprise  and  injury.  "  I  can  tell  you  the  name  of 
the  shi^i  they  arrived  in,  sir."  1 

"  Of  course  you  can,  Baboo,  liut  never  mind.  We  don't 
want  any  to-day.  Let's  see  the  chairs.  Now,  Helen,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  the  baboo  went  on  in  advance,  "  you  see  what  we  are 
subject  to  in  this  ungodly  place.  Those  pease  and  gooseberries 
and  asi)araguses  have  probably  been  in  Calcutta  a  good  deal 
longer  than  I  have.  They  look  like  old  sojourners ;  I  wouldn't 
give  them  a  day  under  six  years.  They  are  doubtless  very  cheap, 
but  think,  Helen,  of  what  miijlit  happen  to  my  inside  if  you  gave 
me  green  pease  out  of  Bow  Bazar  I "  Mrs.  ]5rowne  looked 
aghast.  "But  I  never  will,  (ieorge  !"  said  she,  solemnly.  And 
young  Brown  made  her  vow  it  there  and  then.  "  There  are  two 
or  three  decent  European  shops  here,"  he  said,  with  unction, 
"  where  they  make  a  point  of  not  poisoning  more  people  than 
they  can  help.  You  pay  rather  largely  for  that  comfortable 
assurance,  I  believe,  but  it's  worth  having.  I'd  have  more  faith 
in  the  stability  of  the  family,  Helen,  if  you  would  promise  always 
to  go  to  them  for  tinned  things." 

Helen  promised  effusively,  and  it  is  to  her  credit  that  she  al- 
ways informed  young  Browne,  before  consumption,  whenever  a 
domestic  exigency  made  her  break  her  word. 

They  climbed  up  a  dark  and  winding  stair  that  led  out  upon 
a  flat  roof,  crossed  the  roof  and  entered  a  small  room,  borrowed 
from  the  premises  of  some  other  baboo.  "  Hold  your  skirts  well 
up,  Helen ;  it's  just  the  place   for  centipedes,"  her  husband  re- 


u  «   *" 


i 


77/Zi'    SIMPLE  ADVEXTi'RES   OE  A    MEMSAIim.         f,^ 


ITS   .ILf^T   THE    PLAl'li    FOR   CKNTII'KDKS. 


marked  callously;  and  ^Irs.  lirowjio  exhibited  a  disregard  for 
her  ankles  that  would  have  been  renuirkablo  under  any  other 
circumstances. 


I 


64         THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

"  Here,  you  see,  sir,  all  the  chairs,"  stated  the  little  baboo, 
waving  liis  hand.  "  I  must  tell  you,  sir,  that  some  are  off  teak 
and  some  off  shisham  wood.     Thee  shisham  are  the  superior." 

"  You  mean,  baboo,"  said  young  Browne,  seriously,  "  that  the 
shisham  are  the  less  inferior.  That's  a  better  way  of  putting  it, 
baboo." 

"  Perhaps  so,  sir.  Yessir,  doubtless  you  are  right,  sir.  The 
less  inferior — the  more  grammatical ! " 

"  Precisely.  And  now  about  the  jirices,  baboo.  What  is 
your  exact  overcharge  for  follows  like  this?  lie's  shisham,  isn't 
he?    And  he's  about  as  sound  as  anv  of  'em." 

"  Best  shisham,  sir — perfeckkly  sound — not  secon'  hand — our 
own  make.     Feel  the  weight  of  thiss,  sir ! " 

"  All  right,  baboo — I  know.     What's  the  price  ?  " 

"  If  thee  ladee  will  just  sit  down  in  it  for  a  minit  shee  will 
see  how  comfortable  itiss !  " 

"  Trifle  no  longer,  baboo — what's  the  dom  ?  " 

"  The  price  off  that  chair,  sir,  is  cujht  rupees." 

Mr.  Browne  sank  into  it  with  a  pretence  at  gasping.  "  Y''ou 
can't  mean  that,  baboo.  Nothing  like  that.  Eiglit  rupees ! 
You're  dreaming,  baboo.  You  forget  that  you  only  paid  two  for 
it.     Y^'ou're  dreaming,  baboo — or  you're  joking  !  " 

Hurry  Doss  Mitterjee  smiled  in  deep  appreciation  of  the 
gentleman's  humour.  He  even  chuckled,  with  a  note  of  depre- 
cation. 

"  Ah,  no,  sir  !  You  will  pardon  me  for  saying  that  is  a  mis- 
take, sir !  In  bissiness  I  doo  not  joke,  never  !  For  those  chairs 
I  pay  seven  rupees  four  annas,  sir  !  It  iss  a  small  profit  but  it  iss 
contentable.     I  doo  not  ask  more,  sir  !  " 

"  This  is  very  sad,  baboo ! "  said  Mr.  Browne  seriously. 
"  This  is  very  sad,  indeed  !     I  understood  that  you  were  a  person 


THE   SIMrLE   ADVKXTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


65 


of  probity,  who  never  asked  more  than  a  hundred  per  cent.  But 
I  know  the  vahie  of  shishain  cluiirs,  and  tliis  is  four  liundred— 
Oil,  very  sad,  indeed  !  Now  see  here,  Til  ^jdve  you  tliree  rupees 
apiece  for  these  chairs,  and  take  six." 

"  Sahi'ani  I  "  said  the  baboo,  touciiing  his  forehead  with  iron- 
ical gratitude  and  pushing  back  the  chair.     ''  Nossir  !  " 

"  You  may  take  them  at  coss  price,  sir — at  seven  four  you 
may  take  them,  and  I  nuike  no  })r()rit :  but  perhaps  I  got  your 
custom.     Take  them — seven  four  I  " 

Mr.  Browne  turned  away  with  a  slight  sigh.  "  Come  along, 
dear,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "  this  nuin  sells  only  to  llajahs  and 
Members  of  Council." 

The  baboo  ignored  the  pleasantry  this  time — the  moment  had 
come  for  action.  "  ]yimt  *\q  you  give,  sir':'"  he  said,  following 
them — "  for  the  sake  off  bissiuess,  what  do  you  give  'i " 

"  Four  rupees  ! " 

"  Five  eight !  " 

"  Four  eight,  baboo — there  I  " 

"  Ah,  sir,  I  cannot.     Believe  me  they  coss  five  eight  to  buy  I  " 

"  Look  here,  baboo — FU  give  you  five  rupees  apiece  for  six  of 
those  shisham  wood  chairs,  every  one  as  good  as  this,  and  FU 
pay  you  when  you  send  them — that's  thirty  rupees — and  not  an- 
other pice  !     Helen,  be  careful  of  these  steps." 

"To  what  address,  sir?  Will  to-morrow  morning  be  suffi- 
cient early,  sir?" 

"George!"  exclaimed  Helen,  as  they  reached  the  outer 
world  of  Bow  Bazar,  "  what  a  horrid  little  cheat  of  a  man  ! 
Did  you  hear  him  say  at  first  that  they  cost  seven  four  to 
make?" 

"  Oh,  my  dear,"  young  Browne  responded,  superiorly. 
"  That's  a  trifie  !     You  don't  know  the  baboo." 


^ii 


J  , 


66  77//S    SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIin. 

"  Well ! "  said  his  wife,  admiringly,  "  I  don't  know  how  you 
kept  your  patience,  George  ! " 

Whereat  Mr.  Browne  looked  still  more  superior,  and  informed 
Mrs.  Browne  that  the  only  way  to  deal  with  tliese  fellows  was 
to  chaff  'em;  makeup  your  mind  in  the  beginning  tliat  you're 
going  to  be  done  in  the  eye,  and  act  accordingly.  They  always 
score,  he  added,  with  true  Anglo-Indian  resignation. 

They  bought  a  table  next,  from  a  very  fat  old  gentleman — 
simply  clad — in  a  beard  and  a  dhoty.*  The  beard  and  the  dhoty 
were  much  the  same  colour,  and  both  fell  so  abuiulantly  about 
his  person  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  sjiy  which  was  most  useful 
to  him  as  an  article  of  apparei.  And  his  moral  obliquity  was 
concealed  under  more  rolls  and  pads  of  oily-brown  adipose  tissue 
than  could  often  be  seen  in  Bow  Bazar,  lie  must  hjive  been  a 
rascal,  as  young  Browne  said,  or  being  a  Hindu  he  wouldn't  have 
had  a  beard. 

It  was  a  small  mahogany  dining  table,  second  hand,  and  its 
owner  wanted  twenty  rupees  for  it. 

"  I  Mj'wA:,"  said  young  Browne,  "  that  the  memsahib  might 
give  you  fourteen  ! " 

The  usual  humbly  sarcastic  sala'am — it  was  a  very  excellent 
table — the  baboo  could  not  think  of  parting  with  it  for  that. 

"All  ricrht!"  said  Mr.  Browne,  "the  memsahib  savs  she 
won't  give  more  than  fourteen,  and  that's  very  dear.  But  I'll 
make  you  one  offer — just  one,  mind,  baboo !  I'll  give  you  fifteen. 
Now  take  it  or  leave  it — one  word  ! " 

The  baboo  sala'amed  so  that  his  beard  swept  the  ground,  and 
fervently  refused. 

"  Very  well,  baboo !  Now  I  don't  want  it  at  any  price,  see 
if  you  can  bargain  with  the  memsahib." 

*  Cloth  for  legs. 


/•///•;  snfPi.E  ADvr.xrrRr.s  of  a  Mj-:MSA/f/n. 


6; 


■I 


"  Ki(jltfcQ\\  rupees,  mcmsaluib ! "  insiiuuited  the  old  fellow, 
"  very  cheiip." 

"Xo,  indeed  I  "  Helen  excKiinied  with  indignation,  risin<?  to 
the  occasion,  "I  won't  give  you  any  more  than  fourteen/' 

"  Chou'dndt  nipia^  iitonsaltib—fu-iQQW  rujjee  I  Hut  the  sahih 
he  offer  fifteen  !  " 

"Oh,  1  don't  want  it  at  all  now,"  said  the  sahih,  who  stood 
in  the  door  with  his  l)a('k  turned  and  whistled.  "  Now  you  must 
bargain  with  the  memsahib." 

The  baboo  looked  at  his  customers  anxiously  for  a  moment. 
•'  For  sixteen  rui)ees  you  take  it,"  he  said. 

"  Don't  want  it,"  rcsjjonded  Mr.  lirowne. 

"Alright— for  fifteen?" 

"  Will  you  give  him  tifteen,  Helen?" 

"  Certainly  not,  dear  !     Fourteen." 

"  Fifteen  the  sahib  xny  he  give  1 "  cried  the  baboo,  his  beard 
wagging  with  righteous  reproach.  "  Take  it  for  fifteen  !  "  Hut 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hrowno  had  made  their  way  out.  Tiie  baboo  fol- 
lowed reminding  and  entreating  for  a  hundred  yards.  They 
were  deaf.  Then  he  wheeled  round  upon  them  in  front.  "  \'ery 
well,  you  give  me  fourteen?"  The  lirownes  went  back  and  left 
their  address,  which  was  weak  in  them,  T  consider;  but  I  have 
no  doubt  that  to  this  day  that  bearded  baboo  considers  himself 
an  injured  person,  and  the  victim  of  a  most  disastrous  bando- 
bust.* 


*  Haryaiii. 


68 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTLRES   OE  A    MI.MSAlllH. 


riiAPTEii  vir. 


ET'S  liave  them  up!"  said  M\\ 
li  row  lie. 

Mr.  Browne  was  smoking 
a  cigar  after  })reakt*ast  in  liis 
own  house.  Tliero  had  been 
a  time  when  Mr.  lirowne 
smoked  his  morning  cigar  on 
his  way  to  office,  but  that  was 
formerly.  The  department  of 
tlie  tea  interest  entrusted  to 
Mr.  Browne  by  his  firm  did 
not  receive  his  active  per- 
sonal superintendence  to  the 
usual  extent  during  the  early 
months  of  the  cold  weather 
of  '91.  I  am  aware  of  this 
because  my  husband  is  a  senior  partner.  Xot  that  the  firm 
minded  particularly — they  liked  young  BroAvne,  and  I  know 
that  we  were  rather  jdeased  at  the  time  that  he  had  discovered 
something  in  the  world  besides  tea. 

The  Brownes  had  been  settled  some  two  or  three  davs,  and 
the  wheels  of  their  domestic  arrangements  had  been  running 
with  that  perfection  of  unobtrusive  smoothness  that  can  be  fully 
experienced  only  in  India,  so  far  as  I  know.     The  meals  had  ap- 


I 


Tin-:  SIMPLE  ADVENrrnEs  or  a  MEMSAiiin.      69 

pearcd  and  tlisappoured  as  by  magic,  the  rooms  liad  \^y^Q\\  swept 
and  dusted  and  garnislied  wiiilo  there  was  n«>  eye  to  see,  tlieir 
wishes  liad  been  anticipated,  tlieir  orders  luid  been  carried  out  in 
the  night,  as  it  seemed. 

"Let's  liavG  'em  up!"  suggested  Mr.  Browne,  witli  reference 
to  the  mysterious  agents  of  all  this  circumstance.  Helen  wanted 
to  see  her  servants. 

"  Bear-cr .'  "  shouted  the  sahib,  young  Browne. 

"  Ilazur  !  "  *  came  the  answer,  in  deep  tones,  from  regions  be- 
low, with  a  sound  of  bare  feet  hastily  ascending  the  stair. 

'"''  Hazur  bulya?''''  \  en(juired  the  bearer  in  a  subdued  voice, 
partially  jjresenting  himself  at  the  door. 

"  Ha ! "  said  young  Brown,  "  Del-ko^  \  bearer !  You  may  sub 
nokar  lao.     Sumja  9     Memsaheb  dekna  inuncta  !  "  * 

"  lUthiit  atcha  .'"  ||  responded  the  bearer,  and  retired. 

Helen  sat  up  very  straight,  a  little  nervous  air  of  apprehen- 
sion mingled  with  her  dignity.  It  had  been  no  flippant  business 
in  her  experience,  to  interview  even  a  prosj)ective  under-house- 
mjiid,  and  presently  she  would  be  confronted  by  a  whole  retinue. 
"  Whv  are  thev  so  long  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  They're  putting  on  their  clean  clothes,  and  perhaps  a  little 
oil  in  your  honour,  my  dear.  They  wish  to  make  as  radiant  an 
appearance  as  possible."  And  in  a  few  minutes  later  the 
Brownes'  domestic  staff  folhnved  its  leader  into  the  room,  where 
it  stood  abashed,  hands  hanging  down,  looking  at  the  floor.  The 
bearer  made  a  respectful  showman's  gesture  and  awaited  the 
pleasure  of  the  sahib. 

*  Yoiu-  honour.  X  I-'^f'k  ! 

f  Your  honour  called.  ||  Very  jjood. 

*  Bring  all  the  servants.     Do  you  understand  ?    The  nienisahib  wants  to 
see  them. 


ap- 


70 


THE   SIMPLE   AnVEXrrRES  OE  A    MEMSA///B. 


The  sahib  regarded  them  quizzieally,  and  softly  smoked  on, 
with  crossed  legs. 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  J[elen  ;  "  what  a  lot !  " 

"  They  are  people  of  inllnite  leisure,  my  dear.  The  aecom- 
})lishment  of  any  one  thing  re({uires  a  great  many  of  them. 
Above  all  it  is  neeessary  that  they  have  peace  and  long  hours  to 
slee}),  and  an  uninterrupted  {)eriod  in  whicth  to  cook  their  rice 
and  wash  and  anoint  tliemselves.  Vou  will  soon  find  out  their 
little  ways.  Now  let  me  ex]»lain.  T'liey  don't  understand  a 
word  of  Knglish. 

"The  bearer  you  know.  The  bearer  brought  all  the  rest  and 
is  resjjonsihle  for  them.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  is  in  honoured 
receipt  of  at  least  half  their  first  month's  wages  for  securing 
their  situations  for  them,  lie  is  their  superior  ofilcer,  and  is 
a  person  of  weight  and  influence  among  them,  and  he's  a  very 
intelligent  man.  I've  had  him  four  vears.  In  that  time  he  has 
looked  after  me  very  well,  I  consider,  very  well  indeed.  lie 
knows  all  about  my  clothes  and  keeps  them  tidy — buys  a  good 
many  of  'em — socks  and  ties  and  things, — takes  care  of  my 
room,  rubs  me  down  every  evening  before  dinner, — keeps  my 
money." 

"  Keeps  your  moneij^  George !  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  one  cun't  be  bothered  with  money  in  this  country." 

"  Well ! "  said  his  wife.  "  I  think  it's  quite  time  you  were 
married,  (Jeorge.     Go  on  !  " 

George  said  something  irrelevantly  foolish  and  went  on. 

"  lie's  perfectly  honest,  my  dear — entirely  so.  It  would  be 
altogether  beneath  his  dignity  to  misap])ropriate.  And  I've  al- 
ways found  him  moderate  in  his  overcharges.  I  took  him  partly 
because  he  had  good  chits  and  good  manners,  and  partly  because 
of  his  ingenuousness.     I  wanted  a  man  for  nine  rupees — this 


THE    SI  MP  IE  ADl'EXTURES   OF  A    MEMSAlllH. 


,r    " 


chaj)  stood  out  for  ten.  Hv  way  of  argument  ho  remarked  that 
he  would  probably  be  purcliasing  a  great  numy  things  for  the 
sahib  in  tlio  bazar — tluit  the  saliib  might  as  well  give  ten  in  the 
llrst  place  !  I  thought  there  was  a  logical  acumen  about  that 
that  one  didn't  come  across  every  day,  and  engaged  him  on  the 
spot." 

"  But,  Cieorge — it's — it's  almost  immoral  I  " 

"  Very,  my  dear !     But  you'll  lind  it  saves  a  lot  of  trouble." 

Helen  compressed  her  pretty  lips  in  a  way  that  spoke  of  a  stern 
determination  to  adhere  to  the  })rin('iples  in  vogue  in  (,'anbury. 

"And  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  interfere  with  him  too  much, 
Helen,  or  he'll  ])ray  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  his  inuUuk*  and  we 
shall  lose  a  good  servant.  Of  course,  I'm  obliged  to  jump  down 
his  throat  once  a  month  or  so — they  all  need  that — but  I  con- 
sider him  a  gentleman,  and  I  never  hurt  his  feelings.  You  ob- 
serve the  size  of  his  turban,  and  the  dignity  of  his  bearing  gener- 
ally?    Well,  so  much  for  tluf  bearer — he  gets  ten  rupees." 

"I've  put  it  down,  Cieorge." 

"Now  the  kitmutgar — he's  another  old  servant  of  mine — the 
gentlenuiu  who  has  just  salaamed  to  you.  You  see  by  his  dress 
that  he's  a  ^lussulman.  No  self-respecting  Hindu,  as  you've 
read  in  books  of  travel  which  occasionally  contain  a  truth — will 
wait  on  you  at  table.  Observe  his  nether  garments  how  they 
differ  from  the  bearer's.     The  B.  you  see  wears  a  dhoty." 

"  A  kind  of  twisted  sheet,"  remarked  Helen. 

"  Precisely.  And  this  man  a  regular  divided  skirt.  The 
thing  he  wears  on  his  head  is  not  a  dinner  plate  covered  with 
white  cotton,  as  one  naturally  imagines,  but  another  form  of 
Mussulman  millinery — I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what.     But  you're 


Own  country. 


:,  72  '^'^^^''    •'>■/.'//'/./:    .Uyi'EXTUA'KS   Of  A    MEMSAUlfi. 

never  to  let  him  aj)i)oar  in  your  prcscni'o  witliout  it.  It  would  be 
rank  disroapoct. 

"lie  is  also  an  ol(i  servant,"  Mr.  Browne  went  on,  "  because 
servants  do  get  old  in  the  course  of  time  if  one  doesn't  get  rid  of 
them,  and  I've  given  \\\^  trying  to  get  rid  of  this  one.  He's  a 
regular  old  granny,  as  you  can  see  from  his  face;  he's  infuriat- 
ingly  incomi)etent — always  ])oking  things  at  a  man  that  a  num 
doesn't  want  when  a  man's  got  a  liver.  Hut  he  doesn't  understand 
being  told  to  go.  1  dismissed  him  every  day  for  a  week  last  hot 
weather:  he  didn't  allow  it  to  interfere  with  liim  in  the  least — 
turned  up  behind  my  chair  next  morning  as  regularly  as  ever — 
cho.se  to  regard  it  as  a  jilea.santry  of  the  sahib's.  "\\'hen  I  went 
to  England,  to  get  engaged  to  you,  my  dear,  I  told  him  I  desired 
never  to  look  upon  his  face  again.  It  was  the  first  one  I  saw 
wlien  tlie  ship  reached  the  1*.  and  ().  jetty.  Ami  there  avus  a 
smile  on  it!  What  could  I  do!  And  that  very  night  he  shot 
me  in  the  shirt-front  with  a  soda-water  bottle.  I  hand  him  over 
to  vou,  mv  dear — vou'll  find  he'll  stay." 

"  I  like  him,"  .said  ^Irs.  Browne,  "•  and  I  think  his  conduct 
has  been  very  devoted,  Cleorge.     And  he  doesn't  cheat?" 

"  lie  has  no  particular  oj)portunity.  Now  for  the  cook. 
This  is  the  cook,  T  take  it.  You  sec  he  wears  nothing  on  his 
head  but  his  hair,  and  that's  cut  short.  Also  he  wears  his  jtar- 
ticular  strip  of  nnislin  dra})ed  about  his  shoulders,  toga-wi.se. 
Also  he  is  of  a  dilTerent  cast  of  countenance,  broader,  higher 
cheek-bones,  more  benevolent.  Kemotely  he's  got  a  strain  of 
Chinese  blood  in  him — he's  j)robably  Moog  from  C'hittagong." 

"  Turn  hawarchi  Iiai,  eh  ?  "  * 

"  Uce-ha  !  "  f 

*  Vou  arc  the  cook  f  f  Worthy  one,  yes. 


TifF  siyrrr.E  AnvExrrKEs  or  a  MEM^^Aiim. 


71 


30C)k. 

his 
liar- 
wise. 

ij^licr 
ill  of 


"  Turn  Mooy  hair''' 

"  (h'e-hn  !  "  " 

"  He  is,  you  see.  Most  of  the  cooks  are,  Jiiul  nil  of  them  pre- 
tend to  be. 

"  Turn  sub  r/ierticjiiniu,  eh^  bairarrhi !''''  f 

'■'' (iee-hit^  liiizur!  Hum  ittrlid  issuup  .suntjn — uicha  sTtlish 
sHHiJ((y  (ttchd  vepudin  sunija — subchvese  k'haua  kuwasti  te/cc  nutu- 
ja  !     Chittie  hai  huzury  X 

"  He  says  he's  a  treasure,  my  dear,  but  tiuit's  a  modest  state- 
ment thev  all  make.  And  he  wishes  to  show  vou  his  chits;  will 
you  eoiulescend  to  look  at  them  ?  " 

"  What  are  his  chits':'"  Helen  incjuired. 

"  His  certificates  from  other  j)eo})le  whose  digestions  he  has 
ruined  fiom  time  to  time.  Let's  see — '  Kali  Hagh,  cook  ' — that's 
his  name  a})i)arently,  but  you  needn't  remember  it,  he'll  always 
answer  to  '  Bawarchi ! ' — '  has  been  in  my  service  eighteen 
months,  and  has  generally  given  satisfaction.  He  is  as  clean  as 
any  I  have  ever  had,  fairly  honest,  and  not  inclined  to  be  wasteful. 
He  is  dismissed  for  no  fault,  but  because  I  am  leaving  India.' 
H'm  I  I  don't  think  much  of  chits  !  This  one  probably  ought  to 
read,  '  He  doesn't  get  drunk  often,  but  he's  lazy,  unpunctual, 
and  beats  his  wife.  He  has  cooked  for  me  eighteen  months, 
because  I  have  been  too  weak-miiuled  to  dismiss  him.  He  now 
goes  by  force  of  circumstances  ! '     But  it's  not  a  bad  chit." 

"  I  doTi't  consider  it  a  very  good  one,"  said  Helen.  "  As  clean 
as  any  I  have  ever  had  !  " 

"  That's  his  profoundest  recommendati(m,  my  dear !  He 
probably  does  not  make  toast  with  his  toes. 


I 


*  You  are  a  Moogf  f  You  know  evorythinpf 

X  I  know  good  soup,  good  sidcdishos,  good  puddings.     Everything  for 
dinner  T  know  well.     Here  are  recommendations,  your  honour. 
6 


n 


THE   SIMPLE  A  DV  EX  TV  RES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


I'' 


I 


i 

! 


"  People  are  utterly  devoid  of  scruple  about  chits,"  Mr. 
Browne  went  on,  running  over  the  dirty  envelopes  and  long- 
folded  half-sheets  of  letter-paper.  "  I've  known  men,  who 
wouldn't  tell  a  lie  uiuler  any  other  circumstances  to — to  save 
tlieir  souls,  calmly  sit  down  and  write  fervent  recommendations 
of  the  mo.^'t  wh()})ping  blackguards,  in  the  joyful  moment  of  their 
deliverance,  over  their  own  names,  i)erfectly  regardless  of  the  im- 
moralitv  of  the  thing.  It's  a  curious  exam])le  of  the  wav  the 
natives'  desire  to  be  obliging  at  anv  cost  comes  otf  on  us.  Now 
here's  a  memsahib  who  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  herself — '  Kali 
Bagh  is  a  caj)ital  cook,  llis  entrees  are  delicious,  and  he  always 
sends  uj)  a  joint  done  to  perfection.  His  puddings  are  perhaps 
his  best  })oint,  but  his  vegetables  are  quite  French.  I  can 
thorou<rhIv  recomnu'ud  him  to  anvone  wanting  a  reallv  first-rate 
chef. — Mary  L.  Johnson.'  Now  we  don't  want  a  chef,  this  num 
isn't  a  chef,  and  .Mary  L.  .Iohns(  n  never  had  a  chef.  I  knew 
the  lady — she  was  the  wife  of  l)ob  Johnson  of  the  Jumna  Bank 
— and  they  hadn't  a  pice  more  to  live  on  than  we  have  !  Chef 
— upon  my  word.  Aiul  yet,"  said  young  Browne  thoughtfully, 
"  I've  had  some  very  decent  plain  dinners  at  Bob  Johnson's." 

"  But  what's  the  use  of  chits,  (Jeorge,  if  people  don't  belie\'^ 
in  them  V  " 

"  Oh,  they  do  believe  in  'em  implicitly,  till  they  find  out  the 
horrible  mendacitv  of  'em.  TIumi  thev  'igc  about  it  and  send 
the  fellow  off,  with  another  excellent  ehit!  And  one  would 
never  engage  a  servant  without  chits,  you  know.  You  see  how 
they  value  them — this  man's  date  back  to  '79.  Here's  a  break, 
two  years  ago. — What  sahib's  cook  were  you  two  years  ago,  Ba- 
warchi?"  ask?d  Mr.  Browne. 

''  Exactly  !  I  tl:..nght  so,  he  paid  a  visit  to  his  mulluk  two 
years  ago — that's  his  own  country.    In  other  words,  he  got  a  bad 


Si 


. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTLKES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


75 


chit  from  tlwit  saliib  and  was  compelled  to  destroy  it.  They 
have  always  visited  llieir  miilluks  under  those  circumstances, 
for  the  len<;th  of  time  corresponding  to  the  break,  l^ut  I  guess 
he'll  do — we  mustn't  ex})ect  too  much.     Twelve  rupees  " 

Tlie  cook  took  his  chits  back  aiul  salaamed,  llek.  »oked 
as  if  she  thouglit  a  great  deal  more  miglit  be  desired  in  a  cook, 
but  could  not  briii^,^  herself  to  the  ])oint  of  discussing  it  in  his 
immediate  presence. 

"  lie  seems  so  very  intelligent,"  she  said  to  herself  with  a 
qualm. 

"  Now  then,  for  the  mussalchi  I     Turn  muHsahlii  /lai,  eli  ?  " 

"(iee-ha,  hazur!" 

The  mussalchi  wore  a  short  cotton  cojit,  a  dhoty,  and  an  ex- 
pression of  dejection.  On  his  head  was  a  mere  suggestion  of  a 
turban— an  abject  rag.  Written  upon  his  face  was  a  hopeless 
longing  to  become  a  bawarchi,  which  fate  forbade.  Once  a  mus- 
salchi, the  son  of  a  mussalchi,  always  a  mussalchi,  the  bearer  of 
hot  water  and  a  dish-cloth,  the  rewiver  of  orders  from   kitmut- 


gars. 


"  Consider  your  mu^-^alchi,  Helen  !  He  is  engaged  to  wash 
the  dishes,  to  keep  the  silver  clean,  and  the  pots  and  pans.  His 
real  mission  is  to  break  as  numv  as  ])ossible,  and  to  lew  lar'n; 
illegal  charges  upon  you  monthly  for  knife-polish  and  mops. 
In  addition  he'll  carry  the  basket  home  from  the  market  everv 
morning  on  his  head — the  cook,  you  know,  is  much  too  swagger 
for  that!     Think  he'll  do?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Helen  in  unhappy  iiulecision.  "  Wluit 
do  you  think,  George?" 

"  Oh  we'll  try  him,  and  I  su])pose  he'll  have  to  get  seven 
rupees.  This  is  the  mallic  the  gardener— this  gentlenum  with 
his  hair  done  up  neatly  behind." 


76  THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXrCKES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 

"  Nice  clean-looking  man,"  remarked  Helen,  "  but  oughtn't 
he  to  wear  more  clothes." 

"  Looks  like  a  decent  chap.  No,  I  should  say  not;  I  never 
saw  a  niallie  with  more  on.  You  see  he's  a  very  superior  person, 
a  Brahmin  in  fact,  lie  wears  the  sacred  string,  as  well  as  his 
beads  and  his  dhoty  ;  do  you  see  it,  over  his  right  shoulder  and 
under  his  left  arm.  He  claims  to  have  been  'twice  born.' 
They're  generally  of  a  very  respectable  y^// *  the  mallies." 

"  He  will  take  care  of  the  garden,"  remarked  Helen. 

"  As  we  happen  to  have  a  garden,  yes.  But  his  business  is  to 
produce  flowers.  You  want  flowers,  you  engage  a  mallie.  You 
get  llowers.  This  i)rocess  of  logic  is  perfectly  simi)le  to  the  na- 
tive mind.  It  is  nothing  but  justice  and  sweet  reason.  A 
mallie  is  a  person  who  causes  flowers  to  appear." 

"  But  where  does  lie  get  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear,  that  is  one  of  the  secrets  of  his  profession, 
liut  I  understand  that  there's  a  very  wise  and  liberal  understand- 
ing amongst  mallies — and  quite  a  number  of  mallies  have  gar- 
dens attached  to  them.  Tliere's  a  very  old  story  about  a  mallie's 
chit  which  you  haven't  heard  yet.  His  departing  master  gave 
him  an  excellent  character  and  summed  up  by  saying :  '  This 
mallie  has  been  with  me  fifteen  years.  I  have  had  no  garden, 
I  have  never  lacked  flowers,  and  he  has  never  had  a  convic- 
tion.' "' 

"  (jleorge — do  you  mean  to  say  they  steal !  " 

"Oh,  no,  my  dear!  It's  a  matter  of  arrangement.  This 
man  could  never  take  flowers  out  of  another  sahib's  garden  with- 
out consulting  the  other  sahib's  mallie — that  would  be  very 
wrong.     But  we'll  see  if  he  can't  grow  us  some  for  ourselves." 


X 


*  Caste. 


:. 


la 


1. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEyrURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIE. 


77 


"  But  the  other  saliib." 

"  The  other  sahib  is  simihirly  obliged  from  somebody  else's 
garden,  jind  doesn't  know  anything  about  it.  Eight  rupees  for 
the  mallie." 

Helen  put  it  down  with  inquietude  of  spirit.  * 

"  Now  for  the  syce,  who  looks  after  the  pony,  I've  had  the 
syce  two  or  three  years,  too.  He's  a  very  good  servant  now,  but 
he  used  to  give  me  a  lot  of  trouble  by  pure  laziness.  Once  he 
let  a  pony  of  mine  get  a  sore  back,  and  never  told  me,  and  I 
licked  him.  I  licked  him  well,  and  I  consider  that  licking  made 
a  man  of  him.  lie  realized  gradually — he's  a  stui)id  chap — that 
it  was  uiulesirable  to  be  licked,  especially  in  the  comijound  with 
the  other  servants  looking  on,  and  instead  of  throwing  up  his 
place  and  bringing  me  before  the  magistrate  for  assault,  he  con- 
cluded that  he  wouldn't  let  it  happen  again.  It  never  has,  and 
he  has  respected  himself  and  me  more  ever  since." 

"  Do  you  often  '  lick '  them,  (Jeorge  ?  " 

"  Except  this  once  I  never  have.  Neither  does  anybody  else, 
except  a  few  ill-conditioned  young  cubs,  who  haven't  been  out 
long  enough  to  uiulerstand  the  native  ami  think  they  can  kick 
him  about  to  advantage.  But  decent  servants  never  stay  with 
such  men.  Indeed  they  can't  get  'em.  You've  got  to  have  a 
good  character  to  get  good  servants,  and  there  isn't  a  sahib  in 
Calcutta  that  hasn't  a  reputation  in  the  bazar.  The  bearer 
knows  perfectly  well  I  wouldn't  touch  a  hair  of  his  head,  and  if 
the  bearer  went  out  with  cholera  to-morrow  I  could  get  half  a 
dozen  as  good  in  his  place.  On  the  other  hanil,  ])robably  all  the 
kitnuitgar-lok  despise  me  for  keeping  such  a  poor  servant  as  the 
Kit,  and  I'd  have  a  difficulty  in  getting  a  better  one." 

"  Curious  !  "  said  Helen. 

"  Yes.     The  syce,  my  dear,  will   desire  you  to  pay  for   quite 


7« 


THE   SLMPI.E   Anri-:\TCN/:S   OF  A    MEMSAHIR. 


\ 


twice  as  niuoh  grain  and  fjrass  as  tlio  pony  consumes,  and  for  a 
time  you  will  do  it.  Byo-and-bvo  you  will  acquire  the  wisdom 
of  a  serpent  and  cut  him  accordingly.  In  the  meantime  lie's 
bound  to  have  as  much  sugar-cane  on  hand  as  you  want  to  feed 
the  i)ony  with,  at  a  fixed  charge  of  four  annas  a  month.  Don't 
forget  that  the  syce's  tuluh  is  eight  rupees. 

"This  very  smug  and  smiling  person  is  the  dlioby,  the  wash- 
erwoman. He  is  an  unmitigated  rascal.  There  is  no  pallia- 
tion for  anytliing  he  does.  He  carries  off  your  dirty  linen  every 
week  in  a  very  big  })ack  on  a  very  little  donkey,  and  brings  it 
home  on  the  same,  beating  the  donkey  all  the  way  there  and  all 
the  way  back.  He  mismatches  your  garments  with  other  peo- 
ple's, he  washes  them  with  country  soa})  that  smells  to  heaven  if 
you  don't  watch  him.  His  custom  in  cleaning  them  is  to  beat 
them  violently  between  two  large  and  jagged  stones.  He  com- 
bines all  the  vices  of  his  profession  upon  the  civilized  globe  ; 
but  I'm  afraid  vou'll  have  to  find  out  for  vourself,  dear.  Put 
down  the  dhoby  at  ten. 

"  This  excessively  modest  person  is  the  bhcesty,  who  brings 
us  water  every  day  in  a  goat-skin.  He  isn't  used  to  polite  so- 
ciety, but  he's  a  very  worthy  and  hard-working  sort.  He's  only 
a  ticca-bheesty.  I  fancy  several  ])cople  about  here  use  him. 
You  see  his  sole  business  in  life  is  carrying  water  about  in  goat- 
skins.    So  we  only  give  him  three  rupees. 

"  The  sweeper  is  out  on  the  veranda.  Very  properly  lie 
doesn't  venture  into  our  presence.  lie  is  of  very  low  caste — 
does  the  sweeping  and  all  the  menial  work,  you  know.  You  arc 
never  to  see  or  speak  to  him,  or  you'll  be  lowered  in  the  respect 
of  the  compound.  The  sweeper  is  a  very  poor  sort  of  person — 
he  is  the  only  servant  in  the  place  that  will  eat  the  remains  of 
our  food.     He  gets  six  rupees." 


i 


THE    SIMP  1. 1:    .\n\-l:\  n-RES    or  ./    MEMSAIIIH.  jf) 

"Is  that  all?"  aski'd  WkAqw.     "  Tni  sure  1   don't    know  tliom 

apart." 

"Tluit's  all,  except  your  ayah,  who  isn't    here,  and  a  dunniu 
to  keep  the  door,  whom  we'll  get  when  we're  richer,  and  a  durzie 


•,    'in,**"* 


A    VERY    WORTHY    AND    IIA  I{l)W()I{KlN(i    SrRT. 

to  mend  ourelotlus,  wlioni  we'll  ^ct  wlu-n  they  l)('<,nn  to  wear  out. 
May  they  he  dismissed  now?  " 

"Oh,  yoii, ])!('(( sc / '"'  said  Helen,  and  ^^  lUdiiil  dlrhn  ?  7)nn 
jnne  s^nrfa^''''*  remarked  her  husband,  whereat  they  salaamed  and 
de]>arted  in  single  lile. 

*  Voii  may  go. 


8o 


THE   SIMPLE  APVEXTUKES  OE  J    MEMSAlllli. 


"  But  George,"  ssiirl  Helen,  *'  tliey  come,  witli  my  ayah  at 
eleven,  to  eighty-live  rupees  a  niontii  I  Almost  seven  pounds ! 
1  thougiit  servants  were  ciieap  in  India ! " 

"No,  dear,  they're  not;  at  least,  not  in  Calcutta.  And  these 
are  thn  very  least  we  can  have  to  be  at  all  comfortable." 

Tlie  two  Brownes  looked  at  each  other  with  a  sligiit  shade  of 
domestic  anxiety.  This  was  dispelled  by  the  foolish  old  con- 
sideration of  liow  little  anything  really  mattered,  now  that  they 
were  one  Browne,  and  presently  they  were  disporting  themselves 
behind  the  pony  on  the  Maidan,  leaving  the  cares  of  their  house- 
hold to  those  who  were  most  concerned  in  tliem. 


T 


THE    SIMPLE   ADlEXn  KES    Ol-    A    Ml.MSAIIlli. 


Si 


CIIAPTKK   VIII. 

A  WEEK  later  Hclon  took  over  the  aeoounts.  In  tlie  mean- 
-^^  time  she  liad  learned  to  eouiit  rupees  and  annas,  jti  and 
pice,  also  a  few  words  of  that  tongue  in  which  orders  are  given 
in  Calcutta,  She  arose  on  the  seventh  morning  of  her  tenure  of 
ortlce  rigidly  determined  that  the  ollice  should  no  longer  he  a 
sinecure.  She  would  drop  curiosity  and  pleasure,  and  assume 
discii)line,  righteousness  antl  understanding.  She  would  make  a 
stand.  She  would  deal  justly,  but  she  would  make  a  stand.  It 
would  be  after  George  had  gone  to  oflice.  When  ho  came  home, 
tired  with  tea  affairs,  he  would  not  be  compelled  to  rack  his  brain 
further  with  the  day's  marketing.  He  would  see  that  the  lady 
he  had  made  Mrs.  Hrowne  was  capable  of  more  than  driving 
about  in  a  tum-tum  and  writing  enthusiastic  letters  home  about 
the  beauties  of  Calcutta. 

George  went  to  oflRce.  The  kitmntgar  softly  removed  the 
blue  and  white  breakfast  things.  Outsid  the  door,  in  the  "  bot- 
tle khana,"  the  mussalchi,  squatting,  washed  them  in  an  earthen 
bowl  with  a  mop-stick.  It  occurred  to  Helen  that  she  might  as 
well  begin  by  going  to  look  at  the  mussalchi,  and  she  did.  She 
looked  at  him  with  a  somewhat  severe  ex]»ression,  thereby  caus- 
ing him  dismay  and  terror.  She  walked  all  round  the  mussalchi, 
but  found  nothing  about  him  to  criticise.  "  Rut,  probably," 
thought  she,  as  she  went  back  to  the  dining-room,  "  my  looking 
at  him  had  its  moral  eflfect."    Then  she  sent  for  the  cook. 


tto 


82  THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTi-RES   OE  A    Af  EM  SAHIB. 

The  oook  urrivcd  with  an  expression  of  deep  solemnity,  tem- 
pered by  all  the  amiable  ({ualities  you  can  think  of.  lie  iield  in 
his  hand  an  extremely  dirty  ])ieeo  of  j)aper,  covered  with  strange 
characters  in  Xagri — how  little  anybody  would  have  thought, 
when  they  were  designed  in  the  dawn  of  the  world,  that  they 
would  ever  be  used  to  indicate  the  items  of  an  Knglishnuiirs  din- 
ner!  The  cook  put  a  pair  of  spectacles  on  to  read  them,  which 
completed  the  anomaly,  and  nuide  him  look  more  IxMievolent  than 
ever. 

"Well,  bawarchi,"  said  Helen,  ready  with  pencil  and  note 
book,  "  account  hai  'i  " 

"  (Jee-ha,  hai !  "  responded  he.  Then  after  a  respectful  pause, 
"S'in-beef,"  he  sjiid,  '-'-  vhar  anna.'''' 

"Shin  beef,"  rei)eated  Helen,  with  satisfaction,  "  four  annas. 
Yes?" 

"  Fiss — che  *  anna.  Hress  mutton — egrupee,  che  anna. 
Eggis — satrah — aht  f  anna." 

''Seventeen  eggs,  bawarchi?  When  did  we  eat  seventeen 
eggs?     How  did  we  eat  seventeen  eggs  yesterday?" 

Mrs.  Jirowne  s])()ke  impulsively,  in  Knglish,  but  Kali  Bagh 
seemed  to  understand,  and  with  an  unrullled  front  proceeded 
to  account  circumstantially  for  every  o^^^.  II is  mistress  was 
helpless,  lint,  "  to-morrow,"  thought  she  earnestly,  "  I  will  see 
whether  he  {)uts  four  in  the  sou]) !  " 

The  cook  went  on  to  state  that  since  yesterday  the  Browne 
family  liad  consumed  three  seers  of  potatoes— six  pounds— at  two 
aniuis  a  seer,  which  would  l)e  six  annas.  "  And  I  don't  believe 
that,  either,"  mentally  ejaculated  ^h"s.  Browne,  but  Kidi  Ba-^i 
continued  without  flinching.     He  chronicled  salt,  pepper,  sauce, 

*  Six.  f  Eight. 


T 


i 


1 


i 


T 


Till:    SIMPI.E    ADriiNTURFS   OF   .1    M F.MSA II f H. 


«3 


t 


su^ar,  ho  niontioncd  rice,  dlial,  "  ^'anlcu-isspioo,"  "  guiivu  isstow," 
"k'rats,"*  "kiss-miss,"f  "  niuida,"!  and  oiioiinh  '' mukkaii"**  to 
liavc  suinilicd  a  eliarity-scliool.  llclcii  was  amazed  to  (iiid  tlu; 
nmnlH'r  of  culinary  articles  whicli  undeniably  ini;,'lit  have  been 
used  in  tiie  course  of  twenty-four  hours — she  did  not  consider 
tlio  lon<^  calm  eveiiin^^  that  went  to  meditation  over  the  list. 
When  it  was  finished  she  found  that  the  day's  expenses  in  food 
had  been  exactly  eifjht  rupees  six  annas,  or  about  eleven  shillings. 
Helen  had  had  a  thrifty  education,  and  she  knew  this  was  absurd. 
She  turned  to  the  llai^M'ant  e<^gs  and  to  the  unblushin<;  potatoes, 
and  she  made  a  calculation. 

"  Hawarchi  I  "  said  she,  "  Potatoes — four  annas.  Kggs — five 
annas,  (htijar  || 

"  Bahut  atcha  I  "  said  the  co(jk,  without  remonstrance.  lie 
still  had  twenty-liv(;  per  cent  of  profit. 

Helen  observed,  and  was  encourasi^ed.  She  summoned  up  her 
sternest  look,  and  drew  her  pencil  through  the  total.  "Might 
rupees,"  she  renuirkcd  with  simplicity,  "•  daga  na.  Five  rupees 
daga,"  aiul  she  closed  the  book. 

Kali  liagh  looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  understiinding, 
mingled  with  disai»pointment.  He  did  not  ex])ect  all  he  asked, 
but  he  expected  more  than  he  got.  As  it  was,  his  ])rofit 
amounted  only  to  two  ruiu-es,  not  much  for  a  ])oor  man  with  a 
family.  But  in  after  days,  when  his  memsahib  grew  in  general 
sagacity  and  })articular  knowledge  of  the  bazar.  Kali  Bagh  had 
reason  to  look  back  regretfully  to  those  two  rupees  as  to  the  brief 
passing  of  a  golden  age. 

'  i  will  now  go  dowji,"  said  Mrs.  Browne  with  enthusiasm, 
"and  look  at  his  pots." 


1 


I 


*  Carrols. 
f  Haisiiis. 


X  Flour. 
«  liuttor. 


II  I  will  give 


84         I'll  I-    S/MP/JC  ADl'KXTL'KKS  OJ-    A    MEMSAllHi. 

Tho  compound,  as  slu'  crossed  it,  was  full  of  the  eterv'al  sun- 
light of  India,  the  gay  shrill  gossip  of  the  niynas,  the  hv>arse 
ejaeulations  of  the  erows.  A  flashy  little  green  parrot  Hew  out  of 
a  hibiscus  bush  by  the  wall  in  full  crimson  llower;  lie  belonged 
to  tlie  jungle.  But  a  pair  of  grey  })igeons  cooed  to  each  (jther 
over  the  building  of  their  nest  in  the  cornice  of  a  pillar  of  the 
Brownes'  upj)er  veranda.  They  had  come  to  stay,  and  they 
spoke  of  the  advantages  of  co-operative  housekeeping  with  an- 
other young  couple  like  themselves,  knowing  it  to  be  on  a  safe 
and  permanent  basis.  The  garden  was  all  freshly  scratched  and 
tidy  ;  there  was  a  pleasant  smell  of  earth  ;  the  mallie,  under  a  })i- 
pal  tree,  gathered  up  its  broad  dry  fallen  leaves  to  cook  his  rice 
with.  It  was  a  graphic  bit  of  economy,  so  pleasantly  close  to 
nature  that  its  poetry  was  plain.  "  We  are  the  only  people  who 
are  extravagant  in  India,"  thought  Helen,  as  she  regarded  the 
mallie,  and  in  this  reflection  I  venture  to  say  that  slie  was  quite 
correct. 

The  door  of  the  hnwarchi  khana*  was  open — it  was  never 
shut.  I  am  not  sure,  indeed,  that  there  was  a  door.  Tliere  were 
certainly  no  windows.  It  is  possible  that  the  bawarchi  khana  was 
seven  feet  square,  and  its  mistress  was  just  able  to  stand  up  straight 
in  it  with  a  few  inches  to  spare.  It  contained  a  shelf,  a  table, 
and  a  stove.  When  Kali  Bagh  sat  down  he  used  his  heels.  The 
shelf  and  the  table  were  full  of  the  oil  and  condiments  dear  to  the 
heart  of  every  bawarchi.  The  stove  was  an  erection  like  a  tene- 
ment house,  built  with  what  was  left  over  from  the  walls,  and  artis- 
tically coloured  pink  to  be  like  them.  It  contained  various  hol- 
lows on  the  top,  in  one  or  two  of  which  charcoal  was  glowing — 
beyond  this  I  cannot  explain  its  construction  to  be  plain  to  un- 

*  Cook-house. 


f 


THE    SlMri.l:    An\i:.\TlNl:S   01-    A    Ml.MSAlllH. 


S5 


.  ■ 


(lerstiln(li^<,^s  accu.stonu'd  to  tlic  kitclicii  ran^^cs  of  Clirlstimiity 
and  civilisaiioii.  Hut  nothing?  ovt'r  went  wnm;;  with  Kali  ItajjITs 
stove,  tlu'  boiler  lU'VtT  leaked,  the  hot  water  pipes  never  hurst, 
the  oven  never  recpiired  relinin<;,  the  dampers  never  had  to  he  ro- 
re^nilated.  lie  was  its  presiding  <^'enius,  he  worked  it  with  a 
])alin  leaf  fan,  and  nothing  would  induee  hitn  to  lo<(k  at  a  modern 
improvement.  Kali  Uagh  was  a  eonservative  institution  himself, 
his  reeii)es  were  an  heritage,  he  was  the  living  representative;  of 
an  immemorial  dnslur.*  Why  should  Kali  Hagh  alUict  himself 
with  the  ways  of  the  memsahih! 

'IMie  bawarehi  khaiui  had  another  door,  opening  into  u  rather 
smaller  apartment,  otherwise  lightless  aiul  airless,  whieh  eon- 
tained  Kali  Hagh's  wardrobe  and  bed.  The  wardrobe  was  ele- 
mentary and  hung  upon  a  single  peg,  tlie  bed  consisted  of  four 
short  legs  and  a  piece  of  matting.  Kali  Hagh  had  rei)osed  him- 
self on  it,  and  was  already  siu)ring,  when  Mrs.  Browne  came  in. 
He  had  divested  himself  of  his  chuddar  and  his  spectacles,  and 
looked  less  of  a  j)hiloso[)her  and  more  of  an  Aryan.  Mrs.  lirowne 
made  a  rude  clatter  among  the  pans,  winch  brought  him  to  a 
sense  of  her  disturbing  presence.  Presently  she  observed  hi^n 
standing  behind  her,  looking  anxious,  llis  mistress  sniffed  about 
intrepidly.  She  lifted  saucepan  lids  and  discovered  within  re- 
mains of  concoctions  three  davs  old  ;  she  found  the  dav's  milk  in 
an  erstwhile  kerosene  tin;  she  lifted  a  kettle  and  intruded  upon 
the  privacy  of  a  large  family  of  cockroaches,  any  one  of  them  as 
big  as  a  five-shilling  piece.  Kali  Hagh  would  never  have  dis- 
turbed them.  She  fouiul  messes  and  mixtures  and  herbs  and 
spices  and  sauces  which  she  did  not  understand  and  could  not 
approve.     The  day's  marketing  lay  in  a  flat  basket  under  the 


*  Custom. 


86         THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


(P* 


table.  Helen  drew  it  fortli  and  discovered  a  live  pigeon  indiscrim- 
inately near  the  mutton  with  its  wings  twisted  around  one  an- 
other at  the  joint,  while  from  beneath  a  dtbris  of  potatoes,  beans 
and  caulillower,  came  a  feeble  and  plaintive  "  Quack  !  " 

"  What  is  tills  V "  said  Mrs.  Browne  with  paler  and  sterner 
criticism,  looking  into  a  pot  that  was  bubbling  on  the  fire. 

"  Chanl  hai.,  memsahib  !       llamura  khana  .'  "  *  1^ 

"Your,  dinner,  bawarehi  I  All  that  riceV"  And,  indeed, 
therein  was  no  justification  for  Kali  I^agli.  It  was  not  only 
his  dinner,  but  the  dinner  of  the  sweeper  and  of  the  syce  and  of 
the  mussalchi,  to  be  su])pli'!d  to  them  a  trifle  below  current 
market  rates,  and  Mrs.  Browne  had  j)aid  for  it  all  that  morning.  ; 

Helen  found  herself  confronted  with  her  little  domestic  corner  of 
the  great  problem  of  India —the  natives'  "way."  But  she  had 
no  language  with  which  io  circumvent  it  or  remonstrate  with  it. 
8he  C'  .r.d  only  decide  that  Kali  Bagh  was  an  eminently  proper 
subjev^c  for  discipline,  and  resolve  to  tell  George,  which  was  not 
much  of  an  expedient.  It  is  exactly  ^  lat  we  all  do  in  India, 
however,  under  the  circumstances.  Wo  tell  our  superior  otH- 
cers,  until  at  last  the  (^ueen  Empress  herself  is  told ;  and  the 
Queen-Empress  is  quite  as  incapable  of  further  procedure  as  Mrs. 
Browne  ;  indeed,  much  more  so,  for  she  is  compelled  to  listen  to  v 

the  voice  of  her  parliamentary  wi'angling-machine  upon  the  mat- 
ter, wdiich  obeys  the  turning  of  a  handle,  and  is  a  very  fine  piece 
of  mechanism  indeed,  but  not  absolutely  reliable  when  it  delivers 
ready-made  o})inions  upon  Aryan  problems.  At  least  I  am  quite 
sure  that  is  my  husband's  idea,  and  I  have  often  heard  young 
Browne  say  the  same  thing. 

There  was  a  scattering  to  right  and  left  when  Helen  reap- 

*  It  is  rice,  memsahib ;  my  dinner. 


WHAT   IS  THIS?"  SAID   MRS.  BROWNE,  WITH   PALER  AND   STERNER  CRITICISM. 


88         THE   SlAfP/.K   ADVEXTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB.       ' 

peared  in  the  compound.  Her  domestics  were  not  dressed  to  re- 
ceive her,  and  they  ran  this  way  and  that,  noiselessly  like  cock- 
roaches to  their  respective  holes.  There  seemed  to  be  a  great 
many  of  them,  more  by  at  least  half-a-dozen  than  were  properly 
accredited  to  the  house ;  and  Helen  was  afterwards  informed  that 
they  were  the  hliai  *  of  the  other  servants,  representing  a  fraction 
of  the  great  unemployed  of  Asia,  who  came  daily  for  fraternal 
gossip  in  the  sun  and  any  patronage  that  might  be  going.  They 
were  a  nuisance,  these  bhai,  and  were  soon  sternly  put  down  by 
the  arm  of  the  law  and  the  edict  of  the  sahib,  who  enacted  that 
no  strange  native  should  be  allowed  to  enter  the  compound  with- 
out a  chit.  "  It's  the  only  way  to  convince  them,"  said  he,  "  that 
the  Maidan  is  the  best  place  for  2)ublic  meetings." 

The  quarters  of  the  syce  and  the  pony  were  the  only  ones  that 
invited  further  inspection.  The  same  roof  sheltered  both  of  these 
creatures  of  service,  a  thatched  one ;  but  between  them  a  primi- 
tive partition  went  half  way  up.  On  one  side  of  this  the  pony 
was  tethered  and  enjoyed  the  luxuries  of  his  dependence,  on  the 
other  the  syce  lived  in  freedom,  but  did  not  fare  so  well.  The 
pony's  expenses  were  quite  five  times  as  heavy.  His  food  cost 
more,  his  clothes  cost  more,  his  medical  attendance  cost  more,  to 
say  nothing  of  his  requiring  a  valet.  He  was  much  the  more 
valuable  animal  of  the  two,  though  the  other  is  popularly  be-  ! 

lieved  in  England  to  have  a  soul.     His  wants  were  even  more  ' 

elaborately  supplied  than  the  syce's — he  had  a  trough  to  feed 
from,  and  a  pail  to  drink  out  of,  a  fresh  bed  every  night,  a  box 
for  his  grain,  and  a  curry-comb  for  his  skin  ;  while  the  syce's  do- 
mestic arrangements  consisted  of  an  earthenware  pot,  a  wooden 
stick,  and  a  rickety  charpoy.     When  he  was  cold  he  borrowed 


!■ 


It 


1; 


*  Caste-brothers. 


f' 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAHTB. 


89 


I 

r 


the  pony's  blanket,  and  I  never  heard  of  any  toilet  articles  in 
connection  with  him.  The  accommodation  was  not  equally 
divided  between  him  and  the  pony,  either.  The  pony  had  at  least 
twice  as  much,  and  it  was  in  better  repair. 

The  pony  looked  much  askance  at  Helen.  He  was  accus- 
tomed only  to  the  race  of  his  dark-skinned  servitor.  The  sahib 
with  his  white  face  and  strange  talk  he  associated  with  the  whip 
and  being  made  to  pull  an  objectionable  construction  upon 
wheels  from  which  he  could  not  get  away ;  but  a  memsahib 
might  be  something  of  inconceivable  terror — her  petticoats 
looked  like  it.  Therefore  the  pony  withdrew  himself  into  a  re- 
mote corner  of  his  stable,  where  he  stood  looking  ineffably  silly, 
and  declined  to  be  seduced  by  split  pieces  of  sugar-cane  or  wheed- 
ling words. 

"  Gorah  atclia  liai  ?  "  *  asked  Helen,  and  was  assured  that  he 
was  very  "  atcha,"  that  his  grain  he  ate,  his  grass  he  ate,  hid 
water  h^  ate,  and  ^^cubbi  koocli  na  bolta "  "  he  never  said  any- 
thing whatever,"  which  was  the  final  proof  of  his  flourishing 
condition. 

It  was  getting  a  little  discouraging,  but  Helen  thought  that 
before  retreating  she  might  at  least  inspect  the  bearer's  cow,  a 
cow  being  a  gentle  domestic  animal,  of  uniform  habits,  all  the 
world  over.  One's  own  cow  is  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  and  a  source 
of  ruin,  in  India.  She  declines  to  give  milk,  except  to  the  out- 
side world  at  so  much  a  seer,f  she  devours  abnormal  quantities  of 
food,  she  is  neglected  and  becomes  depraved,  being  nobody's  par- 
ticular business.  But  it  is  impossible  to  draw  lacteal  supplies 
from  an  unknown  source  in  India.  It  is  paying  a  large  price  for 
cholera  bacilli,  which  is  absurd,  since  one  can  get  them  almost 


*  Is  the  horse  well  f 

7 


f  Two  pounds. 


1 


90         THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    ME  ^I SAHIB.      ' 

anywhere  for  nothing.  To  say  nothing  of  the  depravity  of  the 
milk-wallah,*  who  strains  his  commodity  through  his  dhoty,  and 
replenishes  his  cans  from  the  first  stagnant  tank  he  comes  to. 
The  wise  and  advisable  thing  is  to  permit  the  bearer,  as  a 
gracious  favour,  to  keep  a  cow  on  the  premises  and  to  supply  the 
family  at  current  rates.  It  is  a  source  of  income  to  him,  and  of 
confidence  to  you,  while  the  cow  does  her  whole  duty  in  that 
clean  and  comfortable  state  whereto  she  is  called.  The  bearer, 
too,  is  honoured  and  dignified  by  the  possession  of  the  sacred 
animal.  He  performs  every  office  for  her  himself,  though  he 
would  scorn  to  bring  a  pail  of  water  to  a  horse,  and  he  is  happy 
to  live  in  the  odour  of  her  sanctity.  Helen  discovered  the  cow 
of  their  establishment  tied  with  her  calf  outside  the  best  "  go- 
down  "in  the  compound — the  largest  and  cleanest — which  she 
occupied  at  night.  The  bearer  himself  had  not  nearly  such  good 
quarters,  and  this  was  of  his  own  dispensation.  She  wore  a 
string  of  blue  beads  around  her  horns,  and  munched  contentedly 
at  a  large  illegal  breakfast  of  straw  which  had  been  bought  and 
paid  for  to  supply  the  pony's  bed. 

"  Poor  cooey  ! "  said  Helen,  advancing  to  attempt  a  familiar- 
ity, but  the  cow  put  down  her  head  and  made  such  a  violent 
lunge  at  her  that  she  beat  a  hasty  and  undignified  retreat.  This 
was  partly  on  account  of  the  calf,  which  stood  a  little  way  off, 
but  well  within  the  maternal  vision,  and  it  was  quite  an  unrea- 
sonable demonstration,  as  the  calf  was  stuffed,  and  put  there  to 
act  upon  the  cow's  imagination  only.  This  is  a  necessary  ex- 
pedient to  ensure  milk  in  India  from  a  cow  that  has  no  calf  of 
her  own ;  it  is  a  painful  imposition,  but  uniformly  successful. 
The  fact  is  one  of  reputation,  as  being  the  only  one  invariably 


! 


* 


Man. 


2?r 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIUB. 


91 


rejected  by  travellers  as  a  lively  lie,  whereas  they  are  known  to 
swallow  greedily  much  larger  fictions  than  stuffed  calves. 

From  an  upper  window,  shortly  after,  Helen  saw  the  cow's 
morning  toilet  being  performed  by  the  bearer.  And  it  was  an 
instructive  sight  to  see  this  solemn  functionary  holding  at  arm's 
length  the  utmost  end  of  her  tail,  and  with  art  and  precision  im- 
proving its  appearance. 

In  the  cool  of  the  evening  after  dinner,  the  two  Brownes  sat 
together  in  the  shadow  of  the  pillars  of  their  upper  veranda, 
and  Helen  told  the  story  of  her  adventure  in  the  compound. 
Overhead  the  pigeons  cooed  of  their  day's  doings,  the  pony 
neighed  from  his  stable  in  the  expectation  of  his  content.  A 
light  wind  stirred  the  palms  where  they  stood  against  the  stars, 
the  smoke  of  the  mallie's  pipal  leaves  curled  up  faintly  from  his 
roof  where  he  dwelt  beside  the  gate.  Below,  in  the  black  shadow 
of  the  godowns,  easeful  figures  sat  or  moved,  the  subdued  tones 
of  their  parley  hardly  came  to  the  upper  veranda.  They  had 
rice  and  rest  and  the  comfortable  hubble-bubble.  And  the  sahib 
and  the  memsahib  devised  how  they  might  circumvent  these 
humble  people  in  all  their  unlawful  doings,  till  the  air  grew 
chill  with  the  dew,  and  the  young  moon  showed  over  their 
neighbour's  tamarind  tree. 


02         THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A   MEM  SAHIB. 


h 


1 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MRS.  BROWNE'S  ayah  was  a  little  Mussulman  woman  of 
about  thirty-five,  with  bright  eyes  and  an  expression  of 
great  worldly  wisdom  upon  her  small,  square,  high-boned  face. 
She  dressed  somewhat  variously,  but  her  official  garments  were  a 
short  jacket  and  a  striped  cotton  petticoat,  a  string  of  beads 
round  her  neck,  silver  bangles  on  her  arms  and  ankles,  hoops  in 
her  ears,  and  a  small  gold  button  in  her  right  nostril.  This  last 
bit  of  coquetry  affected  Helen  uncomfortably  for  some  time. 
Her  name  was  Chua,  signifying  "  a  rat,"  and  her  heathen  spon- 
sors showed  rather  a  fine  discrimination  in  giving  it  to  her.  She 
was  very  like  one.  It  would  be  easy  to  fancy  her  nibbling  in  the 
dark,  or  making  unwarrantable  investigations  when  honest  peo- 
ple were  asleep.  When  Chua  was  engaged  and  questioned  upon 
the  subject  of  remuneration,  she  salaamed  very  humbly,  and  said, 
"  What  the  memsahib  pleases,"  which  was  ten  rupees.  At  this 
Chua's  countecance  fell,  for  most  of  the  ayahs  of  her  acquaint- 
ance received  twelve.  Accepting  the  fact,  however,  that  her  mis- 
tress was  not  a  "  burra  memsahib "  *  from  whom  much  might 
be  expected,  but  a  "  chota  memsahib  "  f  from  whom  little  could 
be  extracted,  she  went  away  content,  and  spread  her  mat  in  the 
women's  place  in  the  mosque  and  bowed  many  times  to  the  west 
as  the  sun  went  down,  and  paid  at  least  four  annas  to  the  moulviX 
who  had  helped  her  to  this  good  fortune. 

*  Great  memsahib.  f  Little  memsahib.  t  Priest. 


r     JT 


a 


»< 


77/A    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAJUB.         03 

Cluiii  abode  in  lier  own  house,  as  is  the  custom  of  avahs  witli 
family  ties.  She  was  married — her  husband  was  a  kitmutgar. 
They  lived  in  a  bustee  in  the  very  middle  of  Calcutta,  where 
dwelt  several  other  kitmutgars  and  their  wives,  a  dhobv  and  a 
number  of  goats,  and  Chua  walked  out  every  morning  to  her 
work.  Then  home  at  twelve  to  cook  her  food  and  sleep,  then 
back  at  four  for  further  duty  until  after  dinner.  She  never 
breakfasted  before  starting  in  the  morning,  but  she  carried  with 
her  always  a  small  square  tin  box  from  which  she  refreshed  her- 
self surreptitiously  at  intervals.  Inside  tlie  box  was  only  a  rolled - 
up  betel  leaf,  and  inside  the  leaf  a  dab  of  white  paste ;  but  it  was 
to  Chua  what  the  hubble-bubble  was  to  Abdul,  her  husband,  a 
great  and  comfortable  source  of  meditation  upon  the  goodness  of 
Allah,  and  the  easiest  form  of  extortion  to  be  practised  upon  her 
lawful  taskmistress. 

Helen  found  great  difficulty  at  first  in  assimilating  this  hand- 
maid into  her  daily  life.  She  had  been  told  that  an  ayah  was 
indispensable,  and  she  could  accept  Chua  as  a  necessary  append- 
age to  the  lofty  state  of  her  Oriental  existence,  but  to  find  occu- 
pation for  her  became  rather  a  burden  to  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Browne. 
Things  to  do  were  precious,  she  could  not  spare  them  to  be  done 
by  anybody  else,  even  at  ten  rupees  a  month  with  the  alternative 
of  improper  idleness.  Moreover,  the  situation  was  in  some  re- 
spects embarrassing.  One  could  have  one's  ribbons  straightened 
and  one's  hair  brushed  with  equanimity,  but  when  it  came  to  the 
bathing  of  one's  feet  and  the  putting  on  of  one's  stockings  Helen 
was  disposed  to  dispense  with  the  services  of  her  ayah  as  verging 
on  the  indelicate.  Chua  was  still  more  grieved  when  her  mis- 
tress utterly  declined  to  allow  herself  to  be  "  punched  and  prod- 
ded," as  she  expressed  it,  in  the  process  of  gentle  massaging  in 
which  the  ayah  species  are  proficient.     Mrs.  Browne  was  young 


li 


J^^ 


/ 


^ 


THE   SI  MP  IE  ADIEXTLNES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIH.        gr 

then,  ami  a  new  rointM*,  and  not  of  a  disposition  to  brook  any 
interference  witii  lier  muscular  tissues.  But  the  other  day  she 
particularly  recommended  an  ayah  to  me  on  account  of  this 
accomplisliment.  This  to  illustrate,  of  course,  not  the  degenera- 
tion of  Mrs.  Browne's  sense  of  ])roi)riety,  but  of  her  muscular 
tissues. 

The  comprehension  and  precise  knowledge  which  ('hua  at 
once  obtained  of  her  mistress's  wardrobe  and  effects  was  wonder- 
ful in  its  way.  She  knew  the  exact  contents  of  every  box  and 
drawer  and  wardrobe,  the  number  of  pen-nibs  in  the  writing-case, 
the  number  of  spools  in  the  workbasket.  Helen  used  to  feel,  in 
the  shock  of  some  disclosure  of  observation  extraordinary,  as  if 
the  omniscient  little  wonum  had  made  an  index  of  her  mistress's 
emotions  and  ideas  as  well,  and  could  lay  her  snuUl  skinny  brown 
finger  upon  any  one  of  them,  wliich  intuition  was  verv  far  from 
being  wrong.  Clnia  early  induced  an  admiring  confidence  in 
her  rectitude  by  begging  .A[rs.  Browne  to  make  a  list  of  all  her 
possessions  so  that  from  time  to  time  she  could  demonstrate 
their  safety.  The  ayah  felt  herself  responsible.  She  knew  that 
upon  the  provocation  of  a  missing  embroidered  petticoat  there 
might  be  unpleasant  results  connected  with  the  police-wallah  and 
the  thana*  not  onlv  for  her  but  for  the  whole  establishment,  and 
she  wished  to  be  in  a  secure  position  to  give  evidence,  if  neces- 
sary, against  somebody  else.  It  could  certainly  not  be  Chua, 
therefore,  Helen  announced,  when  she  communicated  to  her  lord 
at  the  breakfast  table  the  fact  that  her  very  best  scissors  had  been 
missing  for  three  days.     "  Isn't  it  tedious  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Scissors,"  said  young  Browne.  "  Yes,  good  new  shiny  sharp 
ones,  weren't  they,  with  Rodgers'  name  plainly  stamped  on  them 
— and  rather  small  ?  " 


♦ 


Police  office. 


96 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEMSAH/B. 


'•  All  that,"  lamented   Helen,  "  and  embroidery  size — such 
loves  I " 

"  You  are  gradually  coming  within  the  operation  of  custom, 
my  dear.     Steel    is   the   weakness  of  the  Aryan.     He — in  this 

case  she — will  respect  your 
clothes,  take  care  of  your 
money,  and  guard  your  jew- 
ellery— they  all  have  a  gen- 
eral sense  of  property  in  its 
correct  relation,  but  it  does 
not  apply  to  a  small  pair 
of  scissors  or  a  neat  pocket 
knife.  Such  things  seem 
/■•^^mm^^^m^^^  m:  \  ^^  yield   to  some  superior 

\-^^^BK^Km^^^^g\xA  attraction  outside  the  moral 

sense  connected  with  these 
people,  and  they  invariably 
disappear.  It's  inveterate, 
but  it's  a  nuisance.  One 
has  to  make  such  a  row." 

"  George,"  said  Helen 
gravely,  "  why  do  you  say 
in  this  case  she  ?  " 

"I  think  you'll  find  it 

was  your  virtuous  maid,  my 

dear.     It  wasn't  the  bearer 

— he  has  permitted  me  to 

keep  the   same   knife  and 

nail  scissors  now  for  two  years  and  a  half,  and  the  rest  of  the 

servants,  all  but  the  ayah,  are  the  bearer's  creatures,  and  will 

reflect  exactly  his  morality  in  quality  and  degree.     She  isn't — 


AN   ACCIDENT   DISCLOSED   THEM   AT  THE 
BOTTOM    OF   AN    IMPOSSIBLE   VASE. 


f 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   01-    A    MEMSAllIH. 


97 


she's  an  irresponsible  functionary,  except  to  you ;  you'll  have  to 
keep  an  eye  on  her.  However,  if  we  make  ourselves  patiently 
and  unremittingly  disagreeable  for  a  week  or  two  they'll  turn  up." 
"  I  liaven't  the  Hindustani  to  be  disagreeable  in,"  Helen  re- 
marked. 

"  Oil,  you  needn't  be  violent ;  just  inquire  at  least  three  times 
a  day,  '  Iluniara  kinrhi,  kidder  yia?^*  and  look  forbidding  the 
rest  of  the  time.  Never  dream  for  a  moment  they're  stolen  or 
admit  they're  lost.  It's  a  kind  of  worry  she  won't  be  able  to  stand 
— she'll  never  know  what  you're  going  to  do.  And  she'll  con- 
clude it's  cheaper  in  the  end  to  restore  them." 

I  don't  know  whether  the  Browncs  made  themselves  as  disa- 
greeable as  they  might  about  the  kinchi,  but  it  was  a  long  time  be- 
fore they  were  restored.  Then  an  accident  disclosed  them  at  the 
bottom  of  an  impossible  vase.  Chua,  standing  by,  went  through 
an  extravaganza  of  gratification.  Her  eyes  shone,  she  laughed 
and  clasped  her  hands  with  dramatic  effect.  "  Eyyi  hat "  f— 
would  the  memsahib  inform  the  sahib  and  also  the  bearer  that 
they  had  been  found  ?— the  latter  evidently  having  resorted  lately 
to  some  nefarious  means  of  extracting  from  her  what  she  had 
done  with  them.  Chua  had  doubtless  had  an  uncomfortable 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  her  mistress  discovered  them,  and  felt 
unjustly  served  in  it.  For  the  theft  was  only  a  prospective  one, 
to  be  accomplished  in  the  course  of  time,  if  it  looked  advisable. 
It  did  not  look  advisable  and  Chua  reconsidered  it,  thereby  leav- 
ing her  Mohammedan  conscience  void  of  offence. 

As  soon  as  she  was  able  to  understand  and  be  understood, 
Helen  thought  it  her  duty  to  make  some  kindly  enquiries  about 
Chua's  domestic  affairs.     Had  she,  for  instance,  any  children  ? 


*  My  scissors,  where  have  they  gone  f 


t  One  word. 


98 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEiVTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


"jVc/,  memmliih  r''  she  respondeu,  with  a  look,  of  assumed 
contempt  tliat  could  not  have  sat  more  emphatically  upon  the 
face  of  any  fin  de  siede  lady  who  does  not  believe  in  babies. 
'■''Baba  hai  7ia  !  Baha  na  muncta^'*  *  she  went  on  with  a  large 
curl  of  the  lip,  "Baba  all  time  cry  kurta\ — Waow  I  Waow ! 
aicha  na.,  \  memsahib  !  " 

"  Oh  na,  ayah  !  Baba  atcha  hai,"  laugiied  Helen,  defending 
the  sacred  est  tlicory  of  her  sex. 

Chua  took  an  attitude  of  self-effacement,  but  her  reply  had 
a  patronising  dignity,  "  Memsahib  kanutdl  baba  atcha  hai,''^  said 
she.  "  Memsahib  kawasti  kooch  kam  hai  na  !  Ayah  ka  kam 
hai !     Tub  baba  atcha  na — kooch  na  miincta  !  "  ^ 

Chua  occupied  quite  the  modern  ground,  which  was  exhila- 
rating in  an  Oriental,  and  doubtless  testified  to  the  march  of 
truth — that  babies  were  only  practicable  and  advisable  when 
their  possible  mothers  could  find  nothing  better  to  do.  Helen 
was  impressed,  and  more  deeply  so  when  she  presently  discovered 
that  Chua  and  Abdul,  her  husband,  lived  in  different  houses  in 
the  bustee  I  have  mentioned — different  huts,  that  is,  mud-baked 
and  red-tiled  and  leaking,  and  offering  equal  facilities  for  the 
intrusion  of  the  ubiquitous  goat.  Chua  spoke  of  Abdul  with  an 
angry  flash  of  contempt.  In  accommodating  himself  to  circum- 
stances recently,  Abdul  had  offended  her  very  deeply.  It  was 
on  an  occasion  when  Chua  had  accompanied  a  memsahib  to 
England  with  the  usual  infant  charge.  She  was  very  sick,  she 
earned  a  hundred  and  fifty  rupees,  she  was  away  three  months — 
'•''kali  tin  mahina^^  memsahib!"  and  when  she  returned  she 

*  I  do  not  want  bal)ies.  f  Makes  crying.  %  Xot  good. 

*  For  the  memsahib  babies  are  good.  The  memsahib  has  no  work  to 
do.  The  ayah  has  work.  Then  babies  are  not  good,  she  does  not  want 
any!  ||  Only  three  months. 


rilE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


99 


found  Abdul  mated  to  iinotlier.  She  was  artful,  was  Chua — her 
mistress's  face  expressed  such  a  degree  of  disapprobation  that 
she  fancied  herself  implicated,  and  instantly  laughed  to  throw  a 
triviality  over  Abdul's  misconduct.  It  was  a  girl  he  married,  a 
mere  child  '■'■  baba  kamujik^*  memsahib  " — fourteen  years  old. 
But  her  scorn  came  tiirough  the  mask  of  her  amusement  when 
she  went  on  to  state  that  the  house  of  Abdul  was  no  longer  with- 
out its  olive  branch,  but  that  Abdul's  sahib  had  gone  away  and 
there  was  very  little  rice  for  anybody  in  that  family.  The  recre- 
ant had  come  to  her  in  his  extremity,  asking  alms,  she  said  with 
her  curled  lip.  "  liupia  do-u  !  "  f  she  whined,  holding  out  her 
liand  and  imitating  his  suppliauce  with  intensest  irony.  Then 
drawing  herself  up  proudly  she  rehearsed  her  answer  brief,  con- 
temptuous, and  to  the  point. 
"  Dmja  na  !—Jao  !  "  X 

She  had  invested  the  proceeds  of  her  journey  over  tlie  "  black 
water  "  in  a  ticca-gharry  which  lent  itself  all  day  long  to  the 
Calcutta  public  under  her  administration  and  to  her  profit. 
\  The  day  after  Helen  had  been  thus  edified,  the  ayali  did  not  ap- 
\  pear  until  the  afternoon.  She  had  been  to  law  about  some  i)oint 
in  relation  to  the  ticca-gharry.  I  can't  remember  what  Mrs. 
Browne  said  it  was — but  she  wanted  an  advance  of  wages  for  her 
legal  expenses.  She  intended  to  spare  nothing  to  be  triumphant 
— her  adversary  had  trusted  his  case  to  a  common  vakeel.,  *  she 
would  have  a  gorah-vakeel,  \\  though  they  came  higher.  Her 
witnesses  would  be  properly  paid  too — a  rupee  apiece,  and  eight 
annas  extra  for  any  necessary  falsification  at  present  unexpected. 
The  next  afternoon  she  came  late,  with  a  tale  of  undeserved  dis- 
aster which  she  lucubrated  with  indignant  tears,  after  the  man- 

*  Like  a  baby.  1:  T  will  not  give !    Go!  ||  Literally,  horse-lawyer, 

t  Ten  rupees.  *  Lawyer. 


lOo       THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

ner  of  her  sex.  It  was  not  that  the  magistrate  sahib  was  not 
fair,  he  was  just  as  the  sun  at  noon,  or  that  Kahim  the  gharry- 
walhih  liad  more  witnesses  than  she — indeed,  being  a  poor  man, 
he  had  only  four — but  they  were  four  of  the  five,  unhappily, 
whose  services  she,  had  engaged.  The  gharry- wallah  had  offered 
them  two  rupees — a  higher  bid — and  so  they  spoke  jute  hat* 
But  he  would  never  be  able  to  pay  !  Oh,  it  was  very  cantb  !  f 
and  Chua  sat  in  the  dust  and  wrapped  her  face  in  her  sari  I  and 
wept  again.  Later,  she  informed  her  mistress  that  it  was  pos- 
sible she  might  again  be  absent  to-morrow — it  was  possible  that 
she  might  come  into  contact  that  evening  in  the  street  with 
these  defaulting  witnesses — violent  contact.  It  was  possible 
that  if  they  laughed  at  her  she  would  strike  them,  and  then — 
with  an  intensely  observing  eye  always  upon  Helen — then  her 
memsahib,  in  the  event  of  her  being  carried  off  to  the  tliaua 
1  ij  for  assault,  would  of  course   enquire   "  Ilamara  ayah,  kidder 

hai?''^^  and  immediately  take  proceedings  to  get  her  out. 
Chua's  countenance  fell,  though  with  instant  submission,  when 
Helen  informed  her  sternly  that  she  would  on  no  account  insti- 
tute such  proceedings,  and  she  was  deprived  even  of  illegal 
means  of  satisfaction,  taken  with  impunity. 

It  was  Chua's  aptitude  for  assault  that  led  to  her  final  expul- 
sion from  the  service  of  the   Brownes  and  from  the  pages  of 
these  annals.      Her  manner  toward  the  bearer  had  been  pro- 
:«  pitiatory  from  the  beginning.     She  called  him  "  Sirdar,"  ||  she 

paid  him  florid  Oriental  compliments  ;  by  the  effacement  of  her 
own  status  and  personality  she  tried  to  establish  a  friendly  un- 
derstanding with  him.  She  undertook  small  services  on  his 
behalf.     She  attempted  to  owe  him  allegiance  as  the  other  serv- 


*  False  talk.  %  Head  cloth.  ||  Head  bearer. 

f  Bad.  *  My  ayah,  where  is  she  f 


W» 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVE.yrURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.       \o\ 


ants  did.  It  is  impossible  to  say  that  she  did  not  press  upon 
him  a  percentage  of  lier  tidab.,  to  ensure  his  omnipotent  good 
will.  But  Kasi  was  for  some  dark  reason  unreciprocal — young 
Browne  believed  he  thought  she  was  storming  his  affections — 
and  at  best  consented  only  to  preserve  an  armed  neutrality. 
Whereat  Chua  became  resentful  and  angry,  carried  her  head 
high,  and  exchanged  remarks  with  Kasi  which  were  not  in  the 
nature  of  amenities.  The  crisis  came  one  afternoon  when  the 
Brownes  were  out. 

"  I  have  something  to  tell  you  after  dinner,"  said  Mrs. 
Browne  significantly  later,  across  the  joint. 

"  And  I  have  something  to  tell  you^''  youug  Browne  re- 
sponded with  equal  meaning, 

Mrs.  Browne  had  the  first  word,  in  order,  her  husband  said, 
that  she  shouldn't  have  the  last.  She  explained  that  she  had 
found  the  ayah  in  tears,  quite  extinguished  upon  the  floor,  the 
cause  being  insult.  Chua  had  forgotten  at  noon  the  little  bright 
shawl  which  she  wrapped  about  her  head  in  the  streets — had  left 
it  upon  the  memsahib's  veranda.  Seeing  it,  the  bearer  had  done 
a  deadly  thing.  He  had  not  touched  it  himself,  but  he  had  sent 
for  the  sweeper — the  sweeper  ! — and  bade  \\\x\\  fenk-do  *  it  to  his 
own  unclean  place  of  living.  And  there,  after  much  search,  had 
Chua  found  it.  Therefore  was  she  deeply  abased,  and  therefore 
did  she  tender  her  resignation.  The  bearer  had  behaved  Rajali 
kamajik !  f  and  had,  moreover,  spoken  to  her  in  bat  that  was 
carah.,  very  carah. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  sahib,  judicially,  "  and  the  bearer  came  to 
me  also  weeping  with  joined  hands  to  supplicate.  His  tale  of 
woe  is  a  little  different.     He  declares  he  never  saw  the  shawl 


*  Throw. 


f  Like  a  lord  1 


! 


I    : 


102       ^'^^   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A   MEM  SAHIB. 

and  never  gave  the  order — I've  no  doubt  he  did  both — but  that 
the  sweeper  acted  upon  his  own  responsibility.  And  what  do 
you  think  the  ayah  did  in  revenge?  She  slippered  him! — all 
round  the  compound !  The  bearer,  poor  chap,  fled  in  disorder, 
but  couldn't  escape.  He  has  undoubtedly  been  slippered.  And 
in  the  presence  of  the  whole  compound  !  It's  worse — infinitely 
worse — than  having  his  puggri  *  knocked  off  in  ribaldry.  And 
now  he  says  that  though  he  has  served  me  faithfully  all  these 
years,  and  I  am  his  father  and  his  mother,  his  honour  has  been 
damaged  in  this  place,  and  he  prays  to  be  allowed  to  depart." 

"  Slippered  him,  Grorge !  but  he's  such  a  big  man  and  she 
such  a  little  woman !  All  round  the  compound !  Oh,"  said 
George's  wife,  giving  way  to  unseemly  hilarity,  "  I  should  like  to 
have  seen  that !  " 

"  Little  termagant !  Oh,  it  was  the  insult  he  ran  from,  my 
dear — not  the  blow.  That  she — an  ayah  and  the  wife  of  a  kit- 
mutgar,  should  have  touched  him  with  the  sole  of  her  shoe ! 
Don't  laugh,  dear — they'll  hear  you,  and  I'd  rather  they  didn't." 

The  Brownes  held  further  debate,  and  took  all  the  circum- 
stances into  consideration.  Young  Browne  had  evidently  ar- 
rived  immediately  at  a  judicial  view  of  the  case,  though  he  pro- 
fessed himself  willing  to  let  the  bearer  go  if  Helen  wanted  to 
retain  Chua.  "  Though  in  that  case  there'll  be  anarchy,  my 
dear,  I  warn  you,"  said  he.  The  result  was  a  solemn  gathering 
of  the  servants  next  morning  upon  the  veranda,  addressed  by 
young  Browne,  while  the  memsahib  sat  up  straight  in  another 
chair  and  looked  serious.  He  took  no  evidence,  there  would 
have  been  too  much,  but  he  spoke  thus : 

"There  was  yesterday  a  great  disturbance  in  the  compound, 

*  Turban. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB.       103 

wliich  is  a  shameful  thing.  Those  wlio  thus  made  great  noises, 
and  used  bad  language  and  were  without  self-respect,  were  the' 
bearer  and  the  ayah.  The  bearer  has  served  me  many  years  in 
many  places  and  with  many  other  servants,  and  I  have  never  be- 
fore known  him  to  act  without  shame  or  to  quarrel.  The  ayah 
has  been  known  a  few  weeks  only.  Both  the  bearer  and  the 
ayah  wish  to  go  away.     The  ayrh  may  go.     Bm  !  "  * 

After  this  simple  and  direct  delivery  no  word  was  said.     The 
servants  dispersed  to  the  compound,  the  bearer,  reinstated  in  his 
self-esteem  and  justilied  before  the  world,  applied  himself  to  for- 
get his  wrongs  and  was  more  diligent  than  ever  in  his  master's 
service.     Chua  stated  to  her  mistress  that  if  she  had  any  more 
trouble  she  would  die  and  the  wind  would  blow  through  her 
bones,   and    many   other   things   in   grief-stricken    Hindustani 
which  Helen  did  not  understand.     But  her  mistress  permitted 
iier  tins  balm  to  her  wounded  feelings,  that  when  she  departed 
she  left  the  dishonoured  shawl  scornfully  behind  her,  having 
privately  received  sufiicient  backsheesh  to  buy  three  like  it. 

*  Enouirli. 


104 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


c 


CHAPTER   X. 

ALCUTTA,  in  social  matters,  is  a  law  unto  herself,  inscru- 
table, unevadjible.     She  asks  no  opinion  and  permits  no 
l[  [  suggestion.     She  proclaims  that  it  shall  be  thus,  thus  it  is,  and 

however  odd  and  inconvenient  the  custom  may  be,  it  lies  within 
the  province  of  no  woman — the  men  need  not  be  thought  of — to 
change  it,  or  even  to  discover  by  what  historic  whim  it  came  to 
be.  Calcutta  decrees,  for  examjile,  that  from  twelve  to  two, 
what  time  the  sun  strikes  straightest  and  strongest  on  the  car- 
riage-top, what  time  al.  ■  rown  Bengal  with  sweet  reasonableness 
takes  its  siesta,  in  the  very  heat  and  burden  of  the  day — from 
twelve  to  two  is  the  proper  hour  forsooth  for  the  memsahib  to 
visit  and  Lo  visited.  Thus  this  usually  tepid  form  frequently 
reaches  a  boiling  point  of  social  consideration,  becomes  a  mark 
of  recognition  \<:hich  is  simply  perfervid.  It  is  also  an  unami- 
able  time  of  day.  The  cheering  effects  of  breakfast  have  worn 
off,  and  tiffin  looms  distantly,  the  reward  of  virtue.  It  would 
be  impossible  to  say  for  how  much  malice  it  is  directly  respon- 
sible. But  this  is  of  the  gods;  we  stew  obediently,  we  do  not 
dream  of  demurring.  Another  honoured  principle  is  that  all 
strangers,  except  brides,  shall  make  the  first  call.  Herein  is  the 
indolence  of  Calcutta  generous  and  u7t reckoning.  All  new 
comers,  of  whatever  business,  jat,  or  antecedents,  have  the  fee 
simple  of  her  drawing-rooms,  the  right  to  expect  their  calls  to 
be  returned,  and  even  to  feel  slighted  if  no  further  recognition 


B. 


THE  SIMPLE   AD r EXT C RES   OF  A    MEM SA II ID. 


105 


,  mscru- 

mits  no 

t  is,  and 

s  within 

.t  of — to 

came  to 

to  two, 

the  car- 

ableness 

y — from 

sahib  to 

}quently 

a  mark 

nnanii- 

ve  w^orn 

t  would 

respon- 

do  not 

that  all 

n  is  the 

l11    new 

the  fee 

calls  to 

Dgnition 


is  made  of  them.  Anybody  may  tacitly  request  Calcutta  to  in- 
vite him  to  dinner,  and  lay  upon  Calcutta  the  di.sagnrabk'  onus 
of  refusing  to  do  it.  Strangers  present  themselves  on  their 
merits:  the  tone  of  societv  naturallv  therefore  becomes  a  lidle 
assertive.  There  are  other  methods  of  inilirect  compulsion.  A 
man  mav  call — this  invariablv  at  mid-day  on  Sundav — and 
thereby  invite  you  to  leave  cards  upon  his  wife,  and  the  lady  is 
aggrieved  if  you  decline  the  invitation.  Calcutta  sulTers  all  this. 
It  is  the  dustnr. 
§L  Mrs.  (Jeorge  William  Browne  of  course  was  a  bride,  and  had 

made  her  a})i)earance  at  church.  It  was  not  an  imjiosing  ap- 
pearance, and  probably  did  not  attract  as  much  attention  as  the 
Brownes  imagined ;  they  occupied  one  of  the  back  seats  of  a 
sacred  edifice  of  Calcutta  which  is  known  to  be  consecrated  to 
official  circles,  and  the  Brownes  were  only  mercantile.  But  the 
appearance  had  been  made,  whether  or  not  anybody  was  aware 
of  it:  and  Mrs.  Browne  was  assuredlv  entitled  to  sit  from  twelve 
to  two  in  the  days  that  followed  at  the  receipt  of  congratula- 
tions. 
%  "  All  Calcutta  won't  come,"  remarked  young  Browne,  in  a 

tone  of  easy  prophecy.  "  But  ^[rs.  Fisher  will  probably  look  you 
up,  and  Mrs.  Jack  Lovitt,  and  the  Wodenhamers — I've  known 
the  Wodenhamers  a  long  time.  And  Mrs.  P.  ]\Iacintvre  " — the 
person  who  undertakes  this  history — "Mrs.  P.  is  the  only  lady 
in  the  firm  just  now.     She's  sure  to  call." 

"  Where  are  the  rest,  George?" 

"  One  of  'm  dead.  ]^.[rs.  J.  L.  ^lacintyre's  dead — two  of  'em, 
Mrs.  Babcock  and  Mrs.  Walsh,  home  in  England  with  their 
babies." 

"  But,  George — all  the  people  who  came  to  the  wedding?  " 

"Out  of  compliment  to  the  Macdonalds.     Yes,  thev'll  i)rob- 
8 


I06       THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTL'RES  OE  A    MEMSAIIin. 

ably  call — in  their  own  good  time,  '^riioy're  very  busy  making 
other  visits  just  now,  my  dear.  We  mustn't  allow  ourselves  to 
forgot  that  we're  popularly  known  to  l)e  living  on  five  hundred 
a  month.  Society  bows  to  five  hundred  a  month — with  possibili- 
ties of  advance — but  it  doesn't  hurry  about  calling.  You  see 
there  are  so  many  people  with  superior  claims — fifteen  hundred, 
three  thousand  a  month.  It's  an  original  place  in  that  respect 
— Calcutta.  The  valuation  of  society  is  done  by  Government. 
]\Iost  people  arrive  here  invoiced  at  so  much,  the  amount  usually 
rises  as  they  stay,  but  they're  always  kept  carefully  ticketed  and 
published,  and  Calcutta  accepts  or  rejects  them,  religiously  and 
gratefully,  at  their  market  rates.  It's  rather  an  uninteresting 
social  basis — especially  from  our  point  of  view — but  it  has  the 
advantage  of  simplicity.  You  have  a  solemn  official  right  to  ex- 
pect exactly  what  you  can  pay  for." 

AVith  which  treble  cynicism  young  Browne  received  a  bit  of 
mignonette  in  his  button-hole,  kissed  his  wife,  and  departed. 
They  were  not  really  much  concerned,  these  Brownes,  about  the 
conduct  and  theories  of  their  fellow-beings  at  this  time.  Society 
was  homogeneous,  a  human  mass  whose  business  it  was  to  in- 
habit other  parts  of  Calcutta,  and  do  it  as  unobtrusively  as  possi- 
ble. Even  as  a  subject  for  conversation,  society  was  perfunctory, 
and  rather  dull.  It  was  a  thing  apart,  it  did  not  menace  them 
yet,  or  involve  them,  or  tempt  them.  They  had  not  arrived  at  a 
point  when  anything  it  chose  to  concern  itself  Avith  was  impor- 
tant to  them.  It  is  charming,  this  inditference,  while  it  lasts,  but 
it  is  not  intended  to  endure. 

"  It  is  certainly  pretty,"  Helen  remarked  in  a  tone  of  convic- 
tion, looking  round  her  little  drawing-room.  "  It's  charming  !  " 
And  it  was.  The  walls  were  tinted  a  delicate  grey,  and  the  win- 
dows were  all  hung  with  Indian  saris,  pale  yellow  and  white. 


?y  making 
irsclves  to 
;  bund  rod 
I  possibili- 
You  see 
liundred, 
lut  respect 
vernment. 
lit  usuidly 
keted  and 
i(Misly  and 
nterestiiig 
it  has  tlie 
gilt  to  ex- 

id  a  bit  of 
departed, 
about  the 
.  Society 
vas  to  in- 
y  as  possi- 
rfiinctory, 
lace  them 
rrived  at  a 
'as  impor- 
t  lasts,  but 

of  convic- 
arming  !  " 
d  the  win- 
md  white. 


THE   SIMPI.E   AnVEXrrRES   OE  A    MEMSAIim. 


107 


The  fresh  matted  floor  was  bespread  in  phices  witli  blue  and 
wdiite  dhurries,  and  a  big  beflowered  . Japanese  vase  in  a  corner 
held  a  spiky  palm.  There  were  books  and  })ictures — jierhaps 
neither  of  the  sort  to  bear  the  last  analysis,  but  that  at  a  glance 
didn't  matter — and  bits  of  old  china,  and  all  Aunt  Plovtree's 
crewel  work,  and  two  or  three  vases  running  over  with  roses. 
There  were  some  comfortable  wicker  chairs  from  the  China  ba- 
zaar, gay  with  cushions  after  Liberty,  and  there  were  all  the  little 
daintinesses  that  accompany  the  earlier  stages  of  matrimony. 
Through  the  windows  came  in  bars  and  patches  the  sunlight  of 
high  noon,  and  the  rustling  of  the  palms,  and  the  cooing  of  the 
doves  in  the  veraiuhi. 

"  It  hasn't  much  character^''  said  Mrs.  IJrowne,  with  her  head 
at  a  critical  angle,  "  but  it's  charming." 

The  fact  is  that  it  expressed  cleanliness  and  the  Hrovvnes'  in- 
come. I  fear  that  Mrs.  Browne  belonged  to  that  very  numerous 
class  of  ladies  in  whose  o})iiiion  character  is  a  thing  to  arrange, 
just  a  matter  to  be  attended  to  like  the  ordering  of  dinner.  If 
you  had  asked  her  what  particular  character  she  wanted  her 
room  to  express  I  think  she  would  have  been  noiqilussed.  Or 
she  might  have  said,  Oh,  she  wanted  it  to  be  "artistic,"  with  a 
little  smile  of  defiaiKJo  wliich  would  have  been  an  evasion,  not  to 
say  an  equivocjition  of  the  matter.  Helen  Browne  was  not  "ar- 
tistic," and  why  she  should  have  wanted  her  drawing-room  to 
express  what  she  did  not  understand  is  one  of  those  enigmas 
common  to  the  sex,  as  it  flowers  from  day  to  day  into  new  mod- 
ern perplexities. 

Perhaps  it  was  much  more  charming  of  her  to  be  what  she 
was.  It  led  her,  at  all  events,  into  no  burlesques.  Nothing 
could  be  less  extravagant,  for  instance,  than  that  she  should 
presently  occupy  herself,  with  amused  concern  and   mock   de- 


1   I 

I 


t    ! 


IG8       ^V/A'    SlMri.F.    ADl'EXTL'Rl'.S   OF  A    MEMSAlllB. 

si)air,  ill  tiiniiiig  over  ji  collection  of  yoim<;  Browne's  giirnients 
W'itli  ji  view  to  improving  them.  Tiie  beurer  brought  them  to 
lier  ill  a  l)asket,  hiid  them  deprecatingly  at  her  feet,  and  retired, 
doubtless  tliinking  that  tliougli  the  memsaliib  miglit  be  trouble- 
some in  various  ways,  she  had  her  advantages.  Siie  would  per- 
haps destroy  the  sahib's  partiality  for  old  clothes,  lie  himself 
had  struggled  with  these  ancient  socks  and  shirts  a  long  and 
fruitless  time,  liad  cobbled  them  until  his  soul  revolted,  espe- 
cially when  the  sahib,  observing  the  result  of  his  labour,  had 
laughed  dee])  laughs.  The  sahib  was  in  no  wise  stingy — he 
would  give  new  harness  to  the  pony  and  new  kiipra  *  to  the 
syce,  and  the 'bazaar  was  full  of  beautiful  garments  for  the  ap- 
parelling of  sahibs,  yet  persistently  and  without  sense  of  dis- 
honour he  enrobed  himself  daily  thus !  It  was  a  painful,  incom- 
prehensible eccentricity.  Now,  perhaps,  there  would  be  a  new 
order  of  things,  and  a  chance  for  a  little  reasonable  dusturi,] 
And  Kasi  spent  the  rest  of  the  morning  discussing  contracts  in 
the  bazaar. 

To  his  wife,  however,  young  Browne  was  obliged  to  be  ex- 
planatory, and  even  apologetic,  upon  this  point,  lie  had  to  tell 
her  it  was  a  way  they  had  in  India  of  sticking  to  their  old  things 
— it  was  only  the  most  hideous  swells  that  ever  got  anything 
new.  You  couldn't  keep  up  with  the  fashion  in  India  anyhow 
— the  thing  was  to  be  superior  to  it  altogether.  Oh,  she 
wouldn't  have  him  discard  that  hat ;  he'd  had  that  hat  four 
years,  and  he  was  attached  to  it.  If  he  might  be  allowed  to 
keep  it  another  year  or  two  the  shape  would  very  likely  "  come 
in  "again.  Surely  he  wasn't  inexorably  condemned  to  a  new 
coat.     It  would  take  years  to  make  another  as  comfortable  as 

*  Clothes.  t  Pi-ofit. 


7//)'. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTLRES   OE  A    .UE.USA ///E.       109 


t  them  to 

11(1  R'tilVll, 

X'  troublc- 
vould  por- 
le  liiinsi'lf 
:  long  and 
Itod,  espe- 
bour,  had 
ingv — he 
a  ^  to  the 
'or  the  ap- 
ise  of  dis- 
'ul,  incom- 
be  a  new 
di(sliiri.\ 
)ntracts  in 

to  be  ex- 
had  to  tell 
old  things 

anything 
lia  anyhow 

Oh,  she 
b  hat  four 
allowed  to 
ely  "  come 
to  a  new 
Portable  as 


that,  and  it  was  only  11  bit  ragged  in  tlie  eufTs.  Hut  Helen  was 
inflexible  over  the  shortcomings  of  her  husband's  wardrobe,  as  it 
is  the  first  duty  of  the  ladies  of  Angh)-India  to  be,  and  young 
Browne  siionly  pai<l  one  penalty  (.f  matrimony  in  being  reelad 
at  vast  expense,  and  suffered  much  contunu'ly  in  <'(.nse(|uence 
from  his  bachelor  contemporaries.  This  morning  Helen  sniiled 
over  her  basket  with  content  and  entertainment. 

"  What  aren't  shreds  are  patches,"  said  she  to  the  pigeons. 
"Dear  me!  Fancy  having  married  a  person  who  hasn't  l)een 
l)roperly  mended  since  he  left  England."  'IMie  pigeons  rci)lied 
with  suitable  svmi)athv.  There  was  a  roll  of  wheels  under  the 
porch,  and  the  bearer  brought  up  cards,  "Mr.  and  .Mrs.  John 
Lawrence  Lovitt." 

"  Bearer,"  said  Helen,  mistress  of  the  situation,  "all  these 
things  h'Jtto  !  *     Memsahib  mhCum  do.'"'  f 

"  Bahnt  atcJi((^''  J  said  the  bearer,  whisking  them  away  as  ho 
went.  >sot  for  worlds  would  Kasi  have  allowed  his  master's  di- 
lapidations to  become  public.     And  ]\rrs.  Jack  Lovitt  trip})ed  up. 

"JIow  d'ye  do,  Mrs.  Browne?"  she  said.  "  I  ho{)e  I  haven't 
come  too  soon.  Some  one  told  me  you'd  been  seen — somewhere 
— church,  I  suppose.  People  always  do  go  to  church  at  first,  in 
Calcutta.  After  a  while  you  won't — at  least  not  so  regularly.  It 
gets  to  be  rather  a  bore,  don't  you  know,  either  morning  or  even- 
ing. In  the  morning  it  takes  it  out  of  you  so  that  you  haven't 
energy  to  receive  your  callers,  and  in  the  evening — well,  if  you 
go  in  for  Sunday  tennis  you're  too  much  done  for  church.  But 
perhaps  you  won't  go  in  for  Sunday  tennis." 

Mrs.  Lovitt  sank  into  a  chair  and  crossed  her  knees  so  that 
one  small  high-heeled  boot  stuck  out  at  a  sharp  and   knowing 


*  Tal<e  awav, 


f  Give  greeting. 


X  Very  good. 


no     Till'.  SIM  I'll:  ADri.X'/rh'i'.s  oi-  .i  memsmiih. 


I  II  I 


:m<:^lo.  Slu^  was  a  very  little  ptTHoti,  and  she  wore  a  very  Kniart 
gown,  tli()ii;;li  it  was  only  a  spotted  eutton,  and  a  very  small  bon- 
net. Her  long  liandled  parasol  Inul  an  enormous  how  on  it,  and 
lier  small  hands  were  buttoned  up  in  an  excessive  amount  of  kid. 
She  had  a  tinv  waist,  and  her  dress  iltted  her  with  an  absurd 
])erfe(;tion.  There  was  a  sli<^ht  extravagance  about  Mrs.  iJack 
iiovitt  everywhere.  No  one  could  describe  her  without  saying 
"  very"  and  "exceedingly  "  a  great  many  times.  Her  thin  little 
face  hadn't  a  shade  of  colour — it  was  absolutely  ])ale,  and  there 
were  odd  little  drawn  lines  about  it  that  did  not  interfere  with  its 
jmrticular  kind  of  attractiveness.  She  wore  a  i)\nce  nez  astride 
her  small,  sharp  features,  and  when  she  sat  down  it  dropped  into 
her  lap  quite  as  if  it  belonged  to  a  nuin  of  fashion. 

Helen  said,  with  a  conscious  elTort  not  to  be  priggish,  tliat  she 
didn't  think  she  would  go  in  for  Sunday  tennis. 

"  Oil,"  said  ^frs.  Levitt,  smiling  tolerantly,  "don't  believe  in 
it,  I  suppose?  Neither  did  I  when  I  came  out.  You'll  soon  get 
over  that.  You'll  begin  virtuously  by  doing  it  for  your  hus- 
band's sake,  and  by  and  l)y  yon'll  find  that  kind  of  })rejudice 
doesn't  thrive  in  India.  I  played  with  your  huaband  the  last 
Sunday  before  you  came  out.  The  other  side  completely  smashed 
us  up ;  I  don't  think  your  husband  was  in  his  usual  form." 

"  Oil,  I  dare  say  he  was,"  said  Helen,  smiling;  "he  doesn't 
play  a  very  strong  game." 

"  Oh,  I  wasn't  either.  I  played  abominably.  But,  of  course, 
I  blamed  it  all  upon  him ;  I  declared  his  nerves  were  affected — 
on  account  of  you,  you  know.  He  admitted  there  might  be 
something  in  it,"  and  Mrs.  Lovitt  laughed  casually.  "  He  says 
you're  a  tremendous  swell  at  it,"  she  continued  inquiringly. 

Helen  protested,  and  Mrs.  Lovitt  went  on  to  say  that  it  didn't 
matter  much  how  one  played  anyway,  for  tennis  was  certainly 


UIH, 

vory  smart 
snwill  1)011- 
011  it,  and 
mt  of  kid. 
nil  absurd 
Mrs.  .Jack 
•lit  saviiitx 
tliin  little 
and  tluTG 
ro  with  its 
n  astride 
>pped  into 

1,  that  slie 

believe  in 
1  soon  get 
r'our  liiis- 
jirojudice 
the  last 
^  smashed 
111." 
D  doesn't 

)f  course, 

ffected — 

night  be 

lie  says 

it  didn't, 
certainly 


THE    SI  MP  1. 1:    APIEX ILKES   OF  A    Ml.MSANlH. 


I  I  I 


going  out— everybody  went  in  f(»r  golf  now — links  all  over  the 
place.  Did  Helen  go  in  for  golf,  and  had  she  done  anv  cricket, 
before  she  left  Kngland  V  .Mrs.  Lovitt  had  a  cousin,  Stella  Short, 
who  was  in  the  W'ilbarrow  I'llcveii.  I'eihai)s  Helen  had  seen  her 
pliot(»grapli— it  had  been  in  all  the  ladies'  papers. 

'•  What  do  you  think  of  the  climate,  Mrs.  Browne '•"' 
Helen  said  she  thought  it  perfectly  delightful;  she  found  the 
glare  a  little  trying. 

"  Oh,  [jlarv!  Wait  till  the  hot  weather  comes.  It's  all  very 
well  n(»w  and  will  be  till  March,  but  the  hot  weather's  sinii)ly 
beastly;  and  in  the  rains— well,  in  tjie  rains  you  feel  exactly  like 
a  dead  rat." 

"  That  must  bean  extraordinary  feeling,"  Helen  responded, 
with  some  ustonishmeiit  at  the  directness  of  the  ladv's  similes. 

"  It  /.v — rather  I  I  siij)poso  you're  going  to  see  the  N'iceroy's 
C'u])  won  this  afternoon?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Helen,  "are  you?" 

"  Very  much  so  !  I'm  one  of  those  happy  people  who  have 
got  a  tip.  Jimmy  Forbes  gave  me  miiie.  You  don't  know 
Jininiv.  He  and  I  are  great  chums — we're  alwavs  out  tosrether." 
Mrs.  Lovitt  spoke  with  virtuous  candour.  "  Wa^  an  awfully 
jmcca*  sort  of  fellow,  is  Jimmy — youll  like  him  when  you  know 
liim.  He's  a  great  friend  of  my  husband's,  too,"  Mrs.  Lovitt 
added.  "  Jack  thinks  a  lot  of  him.  And  he's  very  knowing  about 
horses.  How  do  you  get  on  with  the  servants?  They'll  stick 
vou  no  end  at  first — of  course  vou  know  that.  When  I  began  I 
used  to  pay  three  rupees  for  a  leg  of  mutton.  It  used  to  cost  us 
two  hundred  a  month  more  than  our  income  to  live  I " 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Helen.     "  Wasn't  that  very  inconvenient  ?  " 

*  (jrCMUilie. 


1 1 


THE    SIMPI.E   ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


I  i 


i!  1^ 


"  Ineoiiveiiicnt  as  the — as  possible,  sometimes,  till  Jack  <,'ot 
Lis  promotion.     Now  we  manage  all  rigiit." 

"  Have  you  any  children,  Mrs.  Lovitt?"  Helen  ventured,  as 
the  bearer  brought  up  anotiu'r  card. 

"Clnldren!  Bless  me,  no,  I  should  think  not!"  replied 
Mrs.  John  Lawrence  Lovitt.  "lint  I've  got  the  littlest  black- 
and-tan  in  Calcutta.  Jimmy  Forbes  gave  him  to  nu\  You  must 
come  and  see  him.  Hello,  Kitty  Toote,  so  you're  on  the  ram- 
page!  Good-bye,  Mrs.  Browne;  don't  let  her  prejudice  you 
against  Calcutta.  She's  always  running  it  down,  and  it's  the 
sweetest  place  in  the  world  ! " 

Mrs.  Toote  made  polite  greetings  to  Mrs.  lirowiie.  "  You 
know  it  isn't  really,"  she  said,  disposing  her  tall  iigure  gracefully 
amonc:  the  cotton  cushions  of  Helen's  little  sofa.  "  ]5ut  of  course 
it  depeiuls  upon  your  tastes."  ^Irs.  Toote  had  tine  eyes,  and  an 
iiu'lination  to  emhonpoint.  Her  expression  advertised  a  superior 
discontent,  but  there  was  a  more  genuine  suggestion  of  gratified 
well-being  underneath  which  contradicted  the  advertisement. 
"  It's  really  awfully  frivolous  here,"  ^Irs.  Toote  remarked. 
"  Don't  vou  think  so — after  England?" 

"  How  can  I  possibly  tell — so  soon  ?  "  said  Helen. 

"No,  I  suppose  not.  Personally,  I  wouldn't  miiul  \X\q frivol- 
ity. The  frivolity's  all  right — if  there  \v  ere  only  any  thing  £'/.s'{?, 
but  there  isn't." 

"Anything  else?"  Helen  inquired. 

"  Y'^es,  anything  really  elevating,  you  know — anything  that 
one  could  devote  one's  self  to.  I  haven't  a  word  to  sav  against 
frivolity ;  I  like  it  myself  as  well  as  anybody,"  said  Mrs.  Toote 
with  engaging  naivete^  "  but  there  ought  to  be  something  behind 
it  to  back  it  up,  you  know."  Mrs.  Toote  spoke  as  if  she  were 
objecting  to  dining  exclusively  upon  ortolans,     lint  the  objection 


7/B. 
Juc'k  got 

II  til  rod,  as 

"  replied 
est  blaek- 
Yoii  must 
tlie  ram- 
idico  you 
1  it's  the 

?.  "  You 
jraeofully 
of  course 
s,  and  an 
I  supoi-ior 
gratiiled 
tisemcnt. 
eniarked. 


lefri  rol- 
ling elsBy 


ing  that 
'  against 
•s.  Toote 
I  behind 
3he  were 
bjection 


TII/C    SIMPLE   ADVEXrrRI'.S   OF  A    MEMSAIflR. 


113 


m 


,^% 


was  a  matter  of  pure  dietetic  theory.     \\\  })ra('ti('e,  Mrs.   Toote 
throve  upon  ortohms. 

"  Nobody  reads,"  said  AFrs.  Toote. 

"Nobody?"  asked  Ikden. 

"•  Nol)0(ly  that  1  know — except  novels,  of  course.'" 

"And  you  prefer  other  kinds  of  books,"  Jlclcn  said,  im- 
pressed.    "  More  solid  reading?" 

"01%  I  enjoy  a  good  novel,"  ]\rrs.  Toote  conceded;  "but  1 
don't  think  people  ought  to  coniine  themselves  to  fiction. 
There's  biography  and  philosophy,  and — and  social  economy. 
All  very  interesting — to  me." 

"  Which  are  your  favorite  authors?"  asked  Helen,  with  defer- 
ence. 

^[rs.  Toote  thought  a  minute.  "John  Stuart  Mill,"  said  she, 
"is  a  very  tine  writer.  ]\[y  husband  has  all  his  books.  So  is 
Iferbert  Spencer;  we  have  all  his,  too.  So  is  Sir  Henry  Cun- 
ninghame.     Have  you  read  The  Chronivlv)^  of  Dushipore  ?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  not,"  said  Helen.     "  Is  it  verv  jroo'l  ?" 

"  Oh,  awfully.  You  must  read  it.  Then,  of  course,  there's 
Kipling.     I'm  devoted  to  Kipling." 

"  Do  you  think  he's  nice?"  asked  ^frs.  Browne,  doubtfully. 

"  I  think  he's  everything.  And  I  must  say  for  the  people 
here  they  do  read  their  Kii)ling.  But  they  don't  talk  about  him. 
I  don't  believe  they  know  the  difference  between  Kipling  and 
anvbodv  else." 

"  Perhaps,"  Helen  ventured,  "  they're  tired  of  him." 

"That's  just  where  it  is.  How  could  anybody  get  tired  of 
Kipling!  You'll  find  plenty  of  gaiety  in  (Calcutta,  Mrs. 
Browne;  but  you  won't  find  much— culture  ! "  And  ^Irs.  Toote 
lifted  her  eyebrows  and  twisted  her  lips  into  a  look  of  critical 
resignation. 


I   iH 


fi!l 


i 


I    i 


Ml 


^  1 

'  1 

114       77/A    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

"  Aren't  there  any  societies  ?  " 

"  Oh,  if  you  menu  the  Asiatic,  that's  for  scientists  and  people 
of  that  sort,  you  know,  and  they  read  awful  papers  there  ahout 
monoliths  and  ancient  dyiuisties  and  things.  You  can't  con- 
sider that  the  Asiatic  represents  any  popular  tendency.  1  don't 
know  anybody  that's  fond  of  Sanskrit.  Of  course,"  ]Mrs.  Toote 
continued,  "  I'm  speaking  generally,  and  I  mean  particularly  the 
women  out  here.  There  are  some  clever  men  in  the  depart- 
ments, naturally.  One  or  two  of  them  are  my  greatest  friends, 
and  it  /-v  refreshing  to  talk  to  them." 

"  But  are  the  ladies  all  frivolous?"  Helen  asked. 

"  Oh,  dear,  uo  !  " 

"  And  the  unfrivolous  ones — what  do  they  do?" 

"  They  mess  about  charities,  and  keep  their  husbands  in  their 
pockets,  and  write  eternal  letters  to  their  children  in  England. 
I've  less  patience  with  them  than  with  the  other  kind,"  Mrs. 
Toote  avowed. 

"  Well,"  said  Helen,  smiling,  "  I'm  not  very  literary,  so  I 
daresay  it  won't  matter  much  to  me." 

"  Then  you'll  either  go  in  for  society  or  philanthropy — that's 
the  way  everybody  ends  up.  You  are  going  to  the  Drawing- 
Koom  next  Thursdav  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"  Well,  immediately  after  you  must  write  your  names  down 
in  the  Government  House  books.  Then  they  ask  you  to  every- 
thing, you  see.  Don't  put  it  off,"  advised  j\Irs.  Toote,  on  the 
point  of  departure.     "  Don't  put  it  off  a  dayP 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  Wodenliamers  came — Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Wodeidiamer,  a  large  lady  and  a  generously  planned 
gentleman.  Tlie  smallest  and  slightest  of  Helen's  wicker  chairs 
creaked  ominouslv,  as  Colonel  Wodenliamer  sat  down  in  it  with 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTi'RES   01-    A    MEMSAllIH. 


"5 


an  air  of  asserting  tliut  he  wasn't  the  weight  you  niiglit  tliiiik  liim. 
As  to  Mrs.  Wodenhanier,  her  draperies  conii)letely  submerged 
Helen's  cotton  cusliions  upon  the  sofa.  Colonel  Wodenhanier  had 
mutton-chop  whiskers  and  a  double  chin  and  a  look  of  rotund  re- 
spectability that  couldn't  be  surpassed  in  Hyde  Park  on  Sunday. 
lie  was  not  a  fighting  colonel,  and  in  the  adding  up  of  commis- 
sariat accounts  there  is  time  and  opportunity  to  develop  these 
amplitudes.  Mrs.  Wodenhanier  matched  him  more  perfectly 
than  is  customary  in  the  odd  luck  of  matrimony,  and  had  a  com- 
plexion besides,  which  the  Colonel  couldn't  boast.  The  com- 
plexion spread  over  features  generously  planned,  and  a  smile 
that  contained  many  of  the  quidities  of  a  warm  sunset,  spread 
over  both.  Helen  wondered  in  vain  to  which  of  ^Irs.  Toote's 
two  social  orders  they  belonged,  for  as  soon  as  Colonel  Woden- 
hamer  had  explained  how  it  was  he  had  come  to  call  on  a  week- 
day— Colonel  Wodenhamer  made  this  a  point  of  serious  impor- 
tance— Mrs.  Wodenhamer  led  the  conversation  into  domestic  de- 
tails. It  wandered  for  a  time  among  pots  and  pans — enamelled 
ones  were  so  much  the  best — it  embraced  all  the  servants,  took 
a  turn  in  the  direction  of  the  bazaar,  and  finally  settled  upon 
}liarrxins. 

"  You'll  find  them  so  troublesome  !  "  said  Mrs.  Wodenhamer. 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  are,"  said  :Nrrs.  Browne,  reflecting 
upon  the  insect  pests  of  India. 

"  Don't  you,  really  !  It's  a  wonder  you  haven't  found  out ! 
They're  towels  or  dust-cloths— anything  of  that  sort.  Almost 
every  servant  must  have  his  jliarruns.  You  have  no  idea  how 
they  mount  up." 

"  I  suppose  they  must,"  returned  Helen,  and  turned  to  Colo- 
nel Wodenhamer  with  intent  to  venture  something  about  the 
weather. 


Il6       THE    SIM  rue   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


-I  \ 


i 


ii 


"  I  don't  see  liow  you've  got  on  witliout  tliein  so  long  !  "  Mrs. 
Wodenhamer  remarked,  glancing  round  with  involuntary  criti- 
cism. "  1  assure  you  I  give  out  weekly  in  my  house  no  less  than 
five  dozen — five  dozen  !  " 

"  That's  a  great  many,"  Helen  agreed.  "  A  very  fair  passage, 
I  believe.  Colonel  Wodenhamer — thirty-one  days." 

"  It's  just  a  question  whether  they're  better  made  in  the 
house,"  Mrs.  Wodenhamer  went  on  placidly  ;  "  I  don't  know 
that  I  wouldn't  advise  you  to  go  to  the  Women's  Friendly — they 
work  very  neatly  there." 

"  For  t\\c  jharriinfi.  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  Helen.  "  The  captain's 
name  ?  Fm  afraid  I  forget.  Colonel  Wodenhamer.  He  was  a 
little  man." 

"  They  w^ear  out  so  frightfully  fast,"  his  lady  remarked. 

"  P.  and  0.  cajitains  ?     But  consider  the  life,  my  dear  !  " 

^^JJiarnins,  John  !  ^Irs.  Browne  really  shouldn't  begin  with 
less  than  six  dozen." 

"  I  must  see  about  them  at  once,"  Helen  said.  "  Fm  sure 
they  are  very  important." 

"  The  whole  comfort  of  your  life  depends  upon  them,"  her 
visitor  replied,  rather  ambiguously,  and  at  that  moment  ^Irs. 
Macdonald  came  up,  and  the  conversation  became  so  general  that 
nobody  noticed  Mrs.  Wodenhamer's  being  lost  in  thought.  As 
she  and  her  husband  rose  to  go,  "  Your  house  is  smaller  than 
mine,"  said  Mrs.  W^odenhamer,  "I  forgot  that.  I  think" — con- 
scientiouslv — "  vou  miqlit  do  with  four  dozen." 

Neither  could  Helen  bring  Mrs.  Macdonald  under  Mrs. 
Toote's  classification,  for  Mrs.  Macdonald  certainly  did  not  give 
one  the  idea  of  a  serious  person,  and  yet  she  talked  a  great  deal 
about  committees.  Mrs.  Macdonald  expressly  advised  Helen  to 
"  go  in  for  "  philanthropy,  and  in  the  next  breath  declared  that 


B. 


THE  SIMPLE  advextl'j:es  oe  a  memsahih. 


117 


! "  Airs. 

ry  criti- 
ess  than 


)ass:igo, 


in  the 
't  know 
y— tlioy 

'aji  tain's 
e  was  a 

d. 

r!" 

rin  with 


ni 

sure 

m, 

"  lier 

nt 

Mrs. 

iral  that 

ht. 

As 

or 

tiian 

"11 

-con- 

er 

Mrs. 

lot 

give 

pat  deal 

"elen  to 

ed 

tliat 

of  course  she  and  young  Browne  must  get  tlieniselvcs  put  up  at 
the  Saturday  Chib,  wliore  a  proportion,  of  Cak'utta  banded  itself 
together  for  purposes  of  dancing  and  amateur  theatricals,  tennis 
and  light  literature.  It  was  puzzling,  this  combination  of  good 
works  and  fashionable  recreation,  until  Mrs.  Macdonald  ex- 
plained, the  exphmation  being  inferential. 

"  You  see,"  said  Mrs.  Macdonald,  "you  must  take  up  some- 
thing, you  know,  and  then  you  will  get  to  be  kiu)wn,  and  it  will 
make  all  the  ditfercnce.  Of  course  if  vou  came  out  as  the  wife 
of  a  major-general  or  a  commissioner  or  a  bishop  it  wouldn't 
matter — you  could  be  independent.  But  as  it  is,"  continued 
Mrs.  Macdonald  with  delicate  vagueness,  indicating  the  Brownes' 
five  hundred  a  montli,  "-  it  would  be  better  for  vou  to  take  an  in- 
terest  in  something,  you  know.  There's  the  Home  for  Sailors' 
Orphans — Airs.  Leek  and  Airs.  A'ondermore — they're  not  very 
important,  thouj,h.  And  there's  -Lady  Blebbin's  Hindu  AVidow 
Institute — that's  overcrowded  now.  I  believe  the  very  best  thing 
for  you  " — Mitli  an  increase  of  business-like  emphasis — "  would 
be  the  East  Indian  Self-IIelp  Society  !  Airs.  AValter  Luif  runs 
that,  and  she's  just  the  woman  to  appreciate  anybody  fresh  and 
energetic  like  you  !  I've  got  inlluence  there  too — I'll  get  you 
nominated." 

"  But,"  said  Helen,  in  some  disnuiy,  "  it's  not  at  all  likely 
that  I  should  be  able  to  be  of  any  use." 

"  Use  ?  Of  c(mrse  you  will.  A^)u'll  be  driven  to  death,  but 
if  Airs.  AValter  LutT  takes  you  up,  you  won't  mind  that !  Be- 
sides," said  Airs.  Alacdonald  witli  an  elTect  of  awakened  con- 
science, "  the  East  Indian  Self- Helps  do  ti  lot  of  good.  You're 
interested  in  the  East  Indians,  aren't  you — the  Eurasians?" 

"  I  don't  know  them  when  I  see  them,"  said  Helen.  "  I 
alwavs  confuse  them  with  the  Jews  and  the  Greeks." 


^ 


1 18       THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTCRES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


\  \\ 


I   r 


!    i 


"  Oh,  well,  you  soon  will.  As  a  rule  they're  awfully  poor,  you 
know,  and  give  us  a  lot  of  trouble  in  Calcutta.  Dear  nie!" 
Mrs.  Macdonuld  ejaculated,  looking  round,  "how  pretty  you  are  ! 
But  if  I  were  you  I'd  have  a  Mirzapore  rug  for  the  middle  of  the 
floor;  it  makes  the  room  so  much  richer,  you  know — shows  uj) 
everything.  And  you  ought  to  get  two  or  three  good  engrav- 
ings— there  are  some  lovely  new  French  things  at  Thacker's — 
only  fifty  rupees  each.  Go  and  see  them.  But  I  must  be  off," 
said  this  sprightly  lady,  and  Helen  was  presently  again  alone,  with 
a  delicate  disappearing  odour  of  jessamine  and  her  reflections. 

I  dropped  in  that  morning  too,  after  all  the  rest ;  but  it  is 
not  essential  to  the  progress  of  this  narrative  that  you  should  be 
allowed  to  gather  from  my  conversation  the  sort  of  person  that 
I  am. 


I     i 


UB. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.       i  iq 


poor,  you 
ear  me  I" 
1  you  are  ! 
die  of  tlio 
shows  up 
d  engrav- 
acker's — 
t  be  off," 
one,  with 
ctions. 
but  it  is 
ihould  be 
•son  that 


CHAPTER  XL 


T  was  clearly  impossible  to  attend  Her  Excellency's  Drawing- 


J-    R 


loom  in  a  tum-tum.  The  Brownes  discussed  it  with  fulness 
and  precision  at  some  lengtii.  Most  people  resident  in  Calcutta 
would  have  arrived  at  this  conclusion  more  rapidly;  but  as 
young  Browne  said,  he  had  never  taken  a  wife  to  a  Drawing- 
Room  before,  and  a  fellow  always  went  to  the  levees  in  his 
tum-tum. 
H  "  It's  that  awful  silk  tail  of  yours  that's  the  difficulty,  dear," 

said  he.     "  It  might  get  wound  up  in  the  wheels,  or  Lord  knows 
what.     Couldn't  you  take  it  in  a  parcel  and  put  it  on  when  you 
.       get  there?" 

I  can  safely  leave  Helen's  response  to  the  imagination  of  all 
femininity. 

"Then,"   said    young    Browne,   "it   must   be  a  ticca,"   and 
Helen  sighed  compliance,  for  she  hated  ticcas. 
M  So   does   all  Calcutta,  except  the  baboos.     The  ticca  is  an 

uncompromising  shuttered  wooden  box  with  a  door  in  each  side 
and  a  seat  across  each  end.  Its  springs  are  primitive,  its  angles 
severe.  When  no  man  has  hired  the  ticca,  the  driver  slumbers 
along  the  roof  and  the  syce  by  the  wayside.  "When  the  ticca  is 
in  action,  the  driver  sits  on  the  top,  loosely  connected  with  a 
bundle  of  hay  which  forms  the  casual,  infrequent  (Ivjenner  of 
the  horses.  The  syce  stands  behind,  and  if  the  back  shutters 
are  open   he   is   frequently  malodorous.      There   may  be   some 


Il 


120       ^"^'Z^'    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


'  n 


I  1 


if 


;'  i 


worldly  distinction  between  the  syce  and  the  driver,  but  it  is  im- 
percei)tible  to  tlie  foreign  eye.  I  liuve  never  been  able  to  decide 
which  is  the  more  completely  disreputable  of  the  two.  Their 
rags  flutter  in  competition.  Thera  is  more  variety  among  the 
horses.  They  are  large  and  gaunt  and  si)eckled.  They  are  small 
and  lean  and  of  one  colour.  They  are  lly-bitten,  unkempt,  knock- 
kneed,  vicious,  and  nasty.  They  have  bad  and  vulgar  habits. 
Some  of  them  have  seen  Australia  and  better  times,  but  it  is  not 
evident  in  their  manners.  Some  of  them  have  been  country-bred 
for  so  many  generations  that  the  original  animal  has  almost  dis- 
appeared, leaving  a  stricken  and  nondescript  little  rej)resentative 
that  might  more  fitly  be  harnessed  to  a  wheelbarrow,  if  wheel- 
barrows lent  themselves  to  harness.  The  ticca-gharry  horse  is 
always  ridiculous  when  he  is  not  pitiful ;  his  gait  under  pressure 
is  a  gallop,  and  his  equipment  is  made  out  in  places  with  pieces 
of  rope  and  other  expediencies.  Tho  baboo  loves  the  ticca- 
gharry  because  the  baboo  knows  not  mercy  and  gets  a  long  ride, 
yea  and  seven  of  his  kind  with  him,  for  threepence.  Calcutta 
people  hate  it  for  reasons  which  are  perhaps  obvious.  And  for 
another.  The  ticca-gharry  directly  aids  and  abets  Government 
in  its  admirable  system  for  the  valuation  of  society,  represented, 
as  has  been  seen,  by  the  Accountant-General.  A  person  who 
habitually  drives  in  a  ticca-gharry  is  not  likely  on  the  face  of  it 
to  be  in  receipt  of  more  than  a  very  limited  income,  and  is  thus 
twice  gazetted  as  not  being  a  particularly  desirable  person  to 
know.  It  is  evident  therefore  that  when  the  Brownes  decided  to 
go  to  the  Viceregal  Drawing-Room  in  a  ticca  they  bowed  to 
circumstances. 

"Only  do?i't  get  one,  George,"  said  Helen,  plaintively,  "with 
a  pink  rosette  on  its  ear." 

There  were  a  few,  a  very  few,  otlier  ticca-gharries  in   the 


HIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB.      \2\ 


•ut  it  is  im- 
e  to  decide 
wo.  Their 
among  the 
3y  are  small 
njit,  knock- 
^ar  habits, 
lit  it  is  not 
>untrv-bred 
almost  dis- 
iresentative 
k^,  if  wheel - 
ry  horse  is 
er  jiressure 
rvith  pieces 

the  ticca- 
,  long  ride, 
Calcutta 
And  for 
overnment 
B])  resented, 
erson  who 

face  of  it 
nd  is  thus 

person  to 
decided  to 

bowed  to 

elv,  "  with 
ies  in    the 


crowd  of  vehicles  that  blocked  the  street  leading  to  Government 
House,  and  i)resently  they  all  found  themselves  unaccountably 
in  the  rear  of  the  line  that  was  nuulc  to  preserve  order  anil 
prevent  aggression.  The  stately  landaus,  the  snug  broiighajus 
and  the  smart  victorhis  rolled  naturally  into  their  places  in  front. 
The  liritish  policeman  whether  in  Hyde  I'ark  or  imperial 
India,  knows  his  duty.  So  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Browne  were  not 
tlie  first  who  alighted  under  the  wide  porch  and  made  their  way 
with  more  trepidation  than  they  allowed  to  api)ear,  into  the  crim- 
son-car[)etcd  precincts  of  the  Burra  l^ord  Sahib. 

"Where  shall  I  nu'ct  you  after — after  it's  over,  ({eorg(??" 
asked  Helen  coming  out  of  the  cloak-room,  very  j)retty  in  her 
soft  white  silk  and  the  fresh  Wiltshire  colour  that  showed  in  her 
cheeks  and  proclaimed  her  newly  "out." 

"Oh  I'll  tind  vou — I'll  be  waiting  with  the  other  men  out- 
side  the  door.     (Jood-bve,  dear.     Don't  be  nervous!" 

'■''Yam  nervous,"  said  Mrs.  Browne.  "But  I  don't  propose 
to  show  it.  Good-bye!"  and  Mrs.  Browne  followed  in  the  wake 
of  other  shimmering  trains  that  were  being  marshalled  from 
corridor  to  corridor  on  their  way  to  the  T'hrone  Boom,  where 
Their  Excellencies,  doubtless  very  bored,  were  returning  bows  to 
the  curtseys  of  all  feminine  Calcutta.  How  verv  fine  those 
trains  were,  some  of  them.  How  elaborate  and  marvellous — 
how  effective !  iVnd  indeed  they  had  come  forth  straight  from 
Bond-street,  many  of  them,  for  this  very  occasion,  and  therefore, 
why  not?  Wliat  use,  pray,  in  being  wives  and  daughters  of 
thousands  a  month  in  the  land  of  exile,  if  measures  could  not 
be  sacredly  kept  in  England  and  "decent  things"  got  out  at 
least  once  a  year !  And  how  the  trains  of  thousands  a  month 
rejoiced  in  their  contrast  with  others  representing  a  smaller 
tuluh.     I  do  not  speak  of  Helen's,  for  hers  was  a  flowing  credit 


i 


! 


;i     ,:,'l 


I     :| 


i      !! 


122       y'///i"   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

to  the  Ciiiibury  (Irossmakor  and  quite  up  to  date,  but  of  gowns 
of  an  elder  fashion  and  another  day  tliat  showed  themselves  with 
delightful  na'ivvte  wx\\o\\<gi\\Q.  glittering  creations  of  the  season. 
They  liad  seen,  some  of  them,  a  great  many  December  dissijKi- 
tions;  they  had  been  carefully  packed  away  through  a  great 
many  hot  weathers  and  monsoons;  they  smelt  of  camphor; 
there  was  a  quaintness  in  their  very  creases.  One  or  two  of 
them  even  told  of  trousseaux,  Helen  thouglit,  that  must  have 
come  to  India  in  the  old  sailing  days,  round  Cape  Horn.  Doubt- 
less this  new  little  memsahib  felt  amused  in  her  trim  feathers,  but 
I  have  worn  creases  and  smelled  of  camphor  myself  in  my  day, 
and  I  could  have  told  her  that  with  five  sons  at  college  and  a 
daughter  at  school  in  England,  one  becomes  necessarily  indiffer- 
ent to  the  fashions,  even  if  the  daughter  does  spend  the  holidays 
with  an  aunt  in  the  country,  free  of  expense.  But  of  course  one 
can't  forecast  one's  own  camiihor  and  creases,  and  Helen  Browne 
may  never  have  any. 

The  dames  who  waited  or  who  didn't  wait  their  turn  at  the 
various  barriers  that  regulated  the  road  to  Viceroyalty  were 
chiefly  imported  Etiglish  ladies  of  the  usual  pale  Anglo-Indian 
type  and  pretty,  either  intrinsically  or  with  the  prettiness  that 
comes  of  being  well  spoilt.  Most  of  them  had  curtseyed  formally 
to  Their  Excellencies  every  December  for  several  years,  yet  they 
were  quite  as  happily  a-tremble  as  the  brides  or  the  lUbutantes — 
the  brides  of  next  season. 

"  I  suppose,"  Helen  overheard  one  little  woman  remark  with 
animation,  "Their  Excellencies  won't  bite!^^  But  she  con- 
tinued to  behave  as  if  she  thought  they  would.  There  were  also 
a  few  ladies  who  had  not  been  imported.  These  were  noticeable 
for  a  slight  and  not  unbecoming  Oriental  duskiness  under  the 
powder,  an  unusual  softness  and  blackness  of  eye,  and  an  oddity 


\niB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADl'EX /'('h'ES   OE  A    MEMSAlllB.       123 


lit  of  gowns 
msc'lvos  with 

the  season, 
iber  dissipii- 
Ligli  a  great 
f  camplior ; 
e  or  two  of 
',  must  have 
rn.  Doubt- 
featliers,  but 

in  my  day, 
:)llege  and  a 
rily  inditfer- 
tlie  holidays 
if  course  one 
elen  Browne 

turn  at  the 
royalty  were 
.nglo-Indian 
3ttiness  that 
^ed  formally 
irs,  yet  they 
Ubut  antes — 

remark  with 
Lit  she  con- 
)re  were  also 
e  noticeable 
is  under  the 
d  an  oddity 


of  inflection  that  struck  Helen  as  so  pretty  and  "  foreign." 
Tliese  ladies  usually  wore  the  fcatliers  in  tiu-ir  hair — the  tiireo 
feathers  that  e(nnpiinient  Kovalty — of  the  same  hue  as  their 
gowns,  ])ink  or  blue  or  periuips  yellow,  which  was  doubth'ss  a 
survival  of  some  lavish  and  tropical  taste  for  colour  tiiat  nuiy 
luive  been  peculiarly  their  own.  The  IJanees  and  the  Maha- 
ranees made  no  attempt  to  subdue  the  gnrgeousness  of  their 
natural  instincts,  but  showed  undisguisedly  in  ])urple  and  gold 
jind  eccentric  gems,  disposed  according  to  tiie  fashion  that  best 
liked  them  ;  and  it  was  Helen's  lot  to  ])roceed  into  the  Viceregal 
j)resence  immediately  behind  a  Mohammedan  lady  of  enormous 
])roportions,  who  represented  matrimonially  a  gi'eat  Nawab,  and 
did  it  wholly  in  crimson  satin. 

Tiieir  Excellencies  stood  upon  a  dais,  near  enough  to  the 
Tlirone  chair  to  suggest  their  connection  with  it.  There  were 
two  stately  lines  of  the  Body-Guard,  imperturbable  under  tlie 
majesty  of  their  turbans  ;  there  Avere  five  or  six  A.-1).-C.'s,  and 
secretaries  in  uniform  with  an  expression  of  solemn  self-con- 
tainment under  their  immature  moustaches.  Aiul  there  were, 
gathered  together  at  Their  Excellencies'  right,  tlie  ladies  of  the 
Private  Entree.  These  ladies  were  the  wives  of  gentlemen 
whose  interests  were  the  special  care  of  (lovernment.  It  was 
advisable  therefore  that  their  trains  should  not  be  stepped  on, 
nor  their  tempers  disarranged ;  and  they  had  been  received  an 
hour  earlier,  with  more  circumstance,  possibly  to  slower  music, 
different  portals  being  thrown  open  for  the  api)roach  of  their 
landaus — they  all  approached  in  landaus.  H  you  stay  in  India 
long  enough.  Government  will  see  that  you  get  the  Private  En- 
tree before  you  go,  as  a  rule.  That  is  if  you  are  a  person  of  any 
perseverance,  and  have  objected  with  sufficient  stolidity  to  get- 
ting out  of  anybody  else's  way.     This  is  not  invariably  the  case, 


124 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEiVTUh'ES  OE  A    MEMSAUIR. 


I  ( I 


i 


I 


I    I 


however,  or  John  Perth  Muciiityre,  my  luisbaiul,  with  his  aiieeesa 
in  tea  and  tlie  knowledge  of  Indian  eomnieree  lie  has  got  in  the 
hist  twentv  years,  would  liave  been  in  the  Vieerov's  C'ouneil  long 
ago,  and  Mrs.  iMaeintyre's  hmdau  approaching  witli  proper  dis- 
tinetion  in  conse<juen('e,  which  it  never  has.  1  liave  no  objection 
whatever  to  tliis  coming  out  in  print,  for  everybody  knows  tluit 
we  wouldn't  take  it  now.  Moreover  I  daresay  it  is  one  reason 
why  I  always  notice  that  the  ladies  of  the  I'rivate  Entree  are  dis- 
posed to  giggle  slightly  and  otherwise  forget  the  caste  of  Vere  de 
Vere,  as  they  look  on  upon  the  curtseys  that  come  after.  On 
this  occasion,  though  Helen  Browne  was  much  too  nervous  to 
observe  it,  they  were  polit(;ly  convulsed — of  course  with  cast- 
down  eyes  and  strained  lips,  and  in  the  numner  of  good  society — 
at  the  genuflections  of  the  Mohammedan  lady  in  red  satin.  I 
have  no  doubt  one  wouldn't  observe  this  to  the  same  extent  if 
one  were  amongst  them. 

When  it  was  over  it  had  been  very  simple.  The  first  A.-D.-C. 
had  handed  Helen's  card  to  the  second  A.-T).-C.,  and  so  on,  until 
it  reached  the  Military  Secretary  who  stood  at  the  end,  and  he 
had  read  distinctly  aloud  from  it  the  perfectly  inoffensive  de- 
scription, "  Mrs.  George  Browne."  Whereat  Mrs.  George  Browne 
had  gone  down  several  unsteady  inches  first  before  one  Excel- 
lency, and  then  before  the  other,  not  at  all  able  to  observe  the 
kindly  smile  with  which  they  encouraged  her  unreliable  equilib- 
rium. After  which  she  followed  the  other  ladies  whose  ordeal 
was  over,  with  hurrying  footsteps  and  much  relief  through  sun- 
dry tall  pillared  apartments  to  the  corridor  where  Mr.  George 
Browne  awaited  her,  and  took  his  arm  with  the  greatest  satisfac- 
tion she  had  yet  experienced  in  its  protection. 

Everybody  repaired  to  the  ball-room,  where,  after  the  lust 
agitated  respects  had  been  received,  Their  Excellencies  also  up- 


nin. 

liis  success 

I  ^'ot  in  tho 

ouiu'il  loii^ 

l)ropc'r  (lis- 

()  objection 

i\no\vs  timt 

one  rt'uson 

rt'o  sire  dis- 

of  N'ere  de 

after.     On 

nervous  to 

witli  cast- 

d  society — 

d  satin.     I 

e  extent  if 

•stA.-I).-C. 

30  on,  until 
'nd,  and  lie 
Tensive  de- 
'ge  Browne 
one  Excel- 
)bserve  the 
)le  equilib- 
lose  ordeal 
rough  sun- 
S\x.  George 
tst  satisfac- 

Br  the  last 
3S  also  ap- 


•? 


THE   SIMPLE  AD  I' EX  TURKS  OE  A    MEMSAlllli.      IJ5 

peared,  and  Helen  had  the  opportunity  <»f  taking  a  lesson  in 
social  astronomy,  and  learning  if  siu^  chos«',  iiow  tliat  there  is  one 
glory  of  the  sun  and  anotiier  glory  of  the  moon,  and  how  dark 
and  unamiable  those  regions  may  be  where  the  sun  and  the  moon 
shine  not.  Also  how  an  A.-D.-C.  may  twinkle  as  a  little  star  in 
the  firmament,  and  iiow  a  Lieuteiuint-dovernor  nuiy  be  the  cen- 
tre of  a  brilliant  constellation.  Helen  noticed  a  subtle  dilTerenco 
between  Tlieir  Kxcellencies  and  the  rest,  and  put  it  down  in  her 
admiring  innocence  to  aristocratic  lineage  or  some  such  vague 
reason.  As  a  matter  of  fact  tliey  were  the  only  people  in  tho 
room  who  did  not  directly  or  indirectly  suggest  a  life-long  inter- 
est in  ])ay  and  i)ro!notion,  which  is  (juite  enough  to  make  a  most 
vital  (lifTerence,  a  most  violent  contrast,  though  it  must  take 
some  years  to  discern  this.  The  pay  of  a  Viceroy  is  magnificent- 
ly absolute,  and  you  can't  promote  him.  I  believe  that  is  ar- 
ranged by  Her  Majesty,  in  order  that  he  may  have  time  to 
think  about  other  things.  This  may  look  a  trifle  caustic,  but 
the  Perth  ^facintyres  have  out-stayed  five  Viceroys  in  Calcutta, 
and  I  have  found  that  number  at  least  to  be  quite  human. 
Although  it  is  a  serious  fact  that  the  more  one  comes  in  con- 
tact with  them  the  less  one  is  struck  with  any  idea  of  their 
common  fallibility,  and  the  more  one  is  inclined  to  refer  to 
His  Excellency  as  a  very  superior  mind,  and  to  Her  Excellency 
as  "a  perfectly  charming  woman,"  without  cavil.  The  last  two 
Viceroys  for  instance  have  seemed  to  me  to  be  much  more 
valuable  acquaintances  than  their  predecessors.  Can  it  be  that 
circumstances — chiefly  viceregal  dinners — have  thrown  us  more 
together  ? 

Little  Mrs.  Macdonald,  sitting  alone  upon  a  sofa  in  a  corner, 
welcomed  the  Brownes  with  effusion. 

"  Do  let  me  go  half  shares  in  your  husband  for  a  while,"  she 


126       THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


h: 


said  to  Helen,  making  room  for  them.  "  Mine  lias  gone  oiY  with 
Mrs.  Toote,  and  ]  know  what  that  means.  Half  an  hour's  deser- 
tion at  least." 

"  What  did  he  go  for?  "  asked  young  Browne. 

"  Because  Mrs.  Toote  is  charming." 

"  Do  you  think  so?" 

"  Don't  ^o/f?  1  tliought  all  the  men  grovelled  before  Mrs. 
Toote ! " 

"  I  don't  grovel,"  said  young  Browne.  "  I  think  she's  a  bit 
of  a  humbug." 

"  But  she  lias  good  eyes,"  Mrs.  Macdonald  jirotested. 

"  Lovely  eyes,"  Helen  chimed. 

"Though  /  wii<h  she  wouldn't  spoil  them  Avith  charcoal  the 
way  she  does,"  remarked  Mrs.  ]\racdonald  with  amiable  unction. 
"She  doesn't  nanl  to,  you  know." 

"How  do  you  do^  (*aptain  Delytis?"  and  Mrs.  ]\[acdonald 
bent  very  much  forward  on  the  sofa  in  recognizing  a  young  man 
in  blue  lapels,  who  suddenly  reined  himself  in  as  it  Avere,  re- 
sponded profoundly  to  her  salutation,  and  then  hurried  on. 
"  That's  Captain  Delytis,"  she  informed  Helen.  "  One  of  the 
A.-D.-C.'s.  Such  a  dear'  He  called  on  me  twice  last  cold 
weather,  and  I  was  da,  i  ' .:ui  l)und  each  time.  AVasn't  it  a 
shame ! " 

"  I  wouldn't  he  too  remorseful,"  i-emarked  young  Browne, 
not  without  malice.  He  had  found  Mrs.  Macdonald  danvazn 
bufid  frequently,  and  had  all  a  black  coat's  aversion  to  the  suj)!'- 
rior  charms  of  blue  la})els.  "  A.-D.-C.'s  have  u  way,  you  know,  of 
finding  out  first." 

"  Don't  be  nasty,  George  Browne,"  responded  Mrs.  ^lacdonald, 
"  besides  in  this  case  it  doesn't  apply,  for  Captain  Delytis  told 
me  himself  how  sorry  he  was.     I  daresay  they  have  to  resort  to 


////)' 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.       127 


ne  ofT  witli 
)ur's  dcscr- 


Ml'- 


eforo  .Mrs. 

slio's  ji  bit 

1. 

arcoal  the 
!  niictioii. 

lacdoiijild 
Miiig  man 
Avero,  ro- 
rried  on. 
nc  of  tlie 
last  cold 
sn't  it   a 

Browne, 

darwaza 

the  siipe- 

know,  of 

ictlonahl, 
lytis  told 
resort  to 


tliat  sort  of  thing  occasionally  though,  poor  things.     They  have 

so  much  to  do." 

"  Do  I"  remarked  young  Browne,  with  the  peculiar  contempt 
mercantile  pursuits  so  often  inspire  for  the  army  and  the  civil 
service  in  Calcutta.     "  They  order  dinner,  1  believe." 

"They  have  charge  of  the  invitations  to  everything,  so  you'd 
better  just  make  him  properly  civil  to  them,"  said  Mrs.  Mac- 
donald,  turning  to  Helen,  who  responded,  with  perfectly  femi- 
nine appreciation  of  the  advice,  that  she  would  indeed. 

"I  wonder,"  continued  Mrs.  Macdonald  thoughtfully,  "  why 
Mrs.  Alec  Forbes  didn't  see  me  just  now.  Did  you  notice  her? 
—that  tall  woman  in  the  pomi)adourish  gown  that  passed  just 
now.  They  say  she's  getting  too  swagger  to  see  lots  of  peoj)lo 
now  that  the  Simlaites  have  taken  her  up  so  tremendously,  but 
she's  generally  as  sweet  as  possible  to  me.  They  tell  a  funny 
story  about  Mrs.  Forbes  and  Mrs.  Perth  Macintyre— you've  seen 
Mrs.  Perth  ]\raeintyre :  perhaps  you  can  imagine  how  ])atronis- 
ing  and  interfering  the  old  lady  is!  Well,  it  was  when  Mrs. 
Forbes  first  came  out,  and  Calcutta  wasn't  at  all  disposed  to  take 
to  her — a  little  of  the  tar-brush,  you  know,  and  that  doesn't  go 
down  here.  But  everybody  liked  Alec  Forbes,  and  she  had  a  lot 
of  money,  and  peoi)le  came  round.  Mrs.  Perth  ]\Iacintyre  de- 
cided to  come  round  too,  and  oiie  night  at  dinner,  when  people 
were  discussing  this  very  function,  she  undertook  to  encourage 
Mrs.  Forbes  about  it.  '  I  daresav  you'll  be  a  bit  tinud,  my 
dear,'  said  she,  'but  you'll  just  have  to  go  through  it  like 
tlie  rest  of  us.'  '  Oh,'  said  ^frs.  Forbes  casually,  '  I  daresay  its 
notliing  to  8t.  James's!'  Mrs.  Perth  Macintyre  was  sat  on 
for  once — she  had  never  been  presented  at  home.  Wasn't  it 
good  ?  " 

"I  can't  see  what  earthly  difference  it  made,"  said  young 


128       77/A    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


Browne,  but  liis  wife  could,  and  turned  anotlier  page  in  Part  II., 
Feminine:  of  tlic  IJook  of  Anglo-India. 

"  Wliy,  (ieorge,"  she  said  presently,  "  who's  that  ?  "  her  hus- 
band having  emitted  a  gruff  "  How  do  !  "  as  a  gentleman  passed 
them. 

"  That?     Oh,  nobodv  mucli !     Sir  William  Peete." 

"What  did  8ir  William  get  his  K  for?"  asked  Mrs.  Maedon- 
aid.     "  I've  forgotten." 

"  For  trimming  up  Calcutta  the  time  some  Royalty  or  other 
came  out.  He  made  a  very  good  municii)al  milliner,  got  out  a 
most  unusual  amount  of  bunting.  They  had  to  recognise  it. 
The  man  who  drained  the  place  got  nothing,  so  far  as  I  remem- 
ber." 

"  George,  you  don't  like  him,"  Mrs.  Browne  remarked  as- 
tutely. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do,  for  two  months  in  the  year,  when  he  likes 
me.  They  occur  in  the  fains.  Then  he's  passionately  fond  of 
everybody  who  will  speak  to  him.  For  the  rest  of  the  time  he's 
exclusively  occupied  with  Sir  William  Peete  and  a  few  other  peo- 
ple of  similar  standing." 

"  What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mrs.  Macdonald. 

"About  August  and  September,"  young  Browne  continued 
suavely,  "  Sir  William  comes  out  in  boils — comes  out  copiously. 
He  sfets  'em  on  his  neck  and  on  his  face  aiul  in  the  middle  of 
his  forehead.  He  becomes  an  awful  spectacle.  He  fawns  on 
his  fellow-beings  then.  As  soon  as  they  leave  him  he  returns 
to  the  sublime  consideration  of  the  social  eminence  of  Sir  Wil- 
liam Peete.  Boils  are  the  only  known  method  of  reminding 
him  that  he  belongs  to  the  human  race,  so  Providence  takes  it." 

j\Ir.  Macdonald  came  up  at  this  moment  and  carried  off  liis 
wife,  leaving  these  young  Brownes  alone  on  the  sofa  in  the  cor- 


' 
i 


\- 


IIIB. 

in  Part  II., 

'  lier  hus- 
nan  passed 

5.  Macdon- 

ty  or  otlior 

,  got  out  a 

3ognise  it. 

I  reineni- 

larked  as- 

ti  he  likes 

1  y  fond  of 

time  he's 

)tlier  peo- 


ontinued 
opionsly. 
middle  of 
fawns  on 
e  returns 

Sir  Wil- 
(minding 
likes  it." 
d  off  his 

the  cor- 


TIIE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


129 


ner  of  the  room,  looking  on.  They  seemed  to  themselves  as  they 
sat  there  to  have  drifted  into  some  tranquil  place  from  which 
they  could  watch  the  steady  current  passing,  the  current  that 
changes  every  year  and  yet  is  always  the  same,  of  English  life  in 
India.  The  old,  old  ambitions,  the  stereotyped  political  aims, 
the  worn  competitions,  the  social  appraisements — how  they  have 
repeated  themselves  through  what  illustrations  of  the  great  lirit- 
ish  average,  even  in  my  time !  How  little  more  than  illustra- 
tions the  men  and  women  have  been,  as  one  looks  back,  pictures 
in  a  magic  lantern,  shadows  on  a  wall !  Good  illustrations, 
though  sliarp  reflections  of  the  narrow  conditions  they  lived  in, 
solemn  warnings  to  those  that  are  so  eager  to  come  after,  if  only 
the  glamour  of  India  left  people  with  eyes  to  see.  IIow  gay  they 
were  and  how  luxurious,  and  how  import.  ■.  in  their  little  day  ! 
IIow  gorgeous  were  the  attendants  of  their  circumstance,  on  the 
box  with  a  crest  upon  their  turbans — there  is  a  firm  in  Calcutta 
that  supplies  beautiful  crests.  And  now — let  me  think  ! — some 
of  them  in  Circular  IJoad  Cemetery — cholera,  fever,  heat — apo- 
plexy; some  of  them  under  the  Christian  daisies  of  England — 
probably  abscess  of  the  liver;  the  rest  grey-faced  Cheltenham 
pensioners,  dull  and  obscure,  with  nncertain  tempers  and  an  ac- 
quired detestation  of  the  climate  of  Great  Britain.  And  soon, 
very  soon,  long  before  the  Brownes  appear  in  print,  the  Perth 
Macintyres  also  will  have  gone  over  to  the  great  majority  who 
have  forgotten  their  Hindustani  and  regret  their  khansamahs. 
Our  brief  day  too  will  have  died  in  a  red  sunset  behind  cluster- 
ing palms,  and  all  its  little  doings  and  graspings  and  pushings, 
all  its  pretty  scandals  and  surmises  and  sensations,  will  echo 
further  and  further  back  into  the  night. 

Of  course  the  Brownes  did  not  moralize  thus  unpardonably. 
Why  should  they?     They  sat  in  their  corner  and  looked  at  the 


'  I 


f     '' 


130      T//£   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

brilliaut  scene  before  tliem,  and  young  Browne  talked  with  more 
or  less  good-natured  cynicism  about  everybody  he  saw,  and 
Helen  quite  failed  to  understand  why  George  should  take  such 
ridiculous  views  of  things.  And  by  and  by  they  went  down  the 
broad  stairs,  past  the  brown  men  that  stood  aside  in  their  gar- 
ments of  crimson  and  gold,  and  the  Browne's  ticca-ffharrv  rolled 
home  with  as  light-hearted  a  sahib  and  memsahib  as  left  Gov- 
ernment House  that  night.  As  they  had  forgotten  all  about 
refreshments  it  was  perhaps  fortunate  that  they  were  able  to 
find  two  mutton  cutlets  cold  from  the  hands  of  Kali  Bagh  and 
some  biscuits  and  marmalade,  when  they  arrived,  which  afforded 
them  keen  satisfaction.  They  could  still,  poor  dears,  with  the 
solace  of  a  cold  cutlet  enjoy  seeing  the  world  go  by. 


kvitli  more 

saw,  iind 

take  such 

down  the 

tlieir  gjir- 

,rrv  rolled 

left  Gov- 

all  about 

e  able  to 

Bagh  and 

1  afforded 

with  the 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB.       i.j 


CilAPTKR   XII. 

I  HAVE  hinted,  perhaps  broadly,  how  the  Government  of 
India  assists  society  in  determining  the  Values  of  People. 
But  this  is  not  wholly  done  by  columns  of  figures  prepared  with 
great  accuracy  in  the  Accounts  Department,  it  is  much  facili- 
tated by  the  discriminating  indication  of  oflicial  position.  I  feel 
that  official  jiosition  should  have  cai)itals  too — in  India  it  always 
has.  (Joverinnent  determines  it  profoundly,  awfully,  and  with  a 
nucroscoi)e.  It  aflixcs  a  tag  to  each  man's  work  aiul  person  de- 
scribing liim  and  all  that  he  does.  There  is  })robably  an  office 
for  the  manufacture  of  these,  and  its  head  is  doubtless  known 
as  the  Distributor-General  of  Iniperial  Tags  to  the  Government 
of  India.  Wi^h  jdl  his  own  time  and  energy  at  his  disposal  for 
the  purpose  he  might  arrange  a  designation  for  himself  even 
more  striking  than  that.  He  woidd  date  his  letters  from  the 
Imperial  Tag  Ofllce,  and  they  would  be  composed  by  the  Sub- 
Assistant-Deputy-Distributor,  who  would  dictate  them  to  one  of 
the  various  gentle  and  oleaginous  baboos  who  are  content  to 
sharpen  pencils  aiul  permit  tlu'ir  white  nether  draperies  to  fall 
round  tall  office  stools  for  modi'rate  remuneration  without  tags. 
In  the  hot  weather  the  Distributor-iJencral  would  go  to  Sinda 
and  the  Assistant- Distributor  would  act  for  him,  iiululging  pre- 
maturely in  the  airs  which  are  attached  to  the  office  of  his  supe- 
rior—borrowing his  tag  as  it  were,  for  the  time.  And  so  the 
days  of  the  Distributor-General  of  Imperial  Tags  to  the  Govern- 


132 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


nient  of  India,  and  those  of  the  lady  who  is  made  comforta- 
ble under  the  same  title  would  be  days  of  great  glory  and 
importance,  except  perhaps  those  which  he  spends  in  Eng- 
land on  furlough,  when  he  would  be  obliged  to  leave  his  halo 
behind  him,  with  his  bearer,  to  be  kept  in  order.  After  sin 
absence  of  a  year  or  two  the  halo  is  apt  to  be  found  a  little 
large,  but  in  such  cases  it  is  never  cut  down,  the  head  is 
allowed  to  expand. 

I  don't  know  of  the  actual  existence  of  such  an  office  in  Cal- 
cutta, for  as  I  have  stated,  Mr.  Perth  Macintyre  has  never  had 
occasion  to  apply  for  a  tag — they  are  comparatively  uncommon 
in  what  the  Simla  element  is  pleased  to  call  the  mercantile  com- 
munity here — but  if  it  does  not  exist  I  am  at  a  loss  to  under- 
stand how  they  get  on  without  it.  Somewhere  and  somehow  the 
solemn  work  of  such  a  Department  goes  on  under  the  direction 
of  Heaven,  and  whether  gentlemen  in  Government  service  wear 
their  tags  upon  their  watch-chains  or  kc(jp  them  in  their  pock- 
ets, they  are  all  tagged. 

It  makes  a  notable  difFerence.  It  gives  Calcutta  for  admira- 
tion and  emulation  a  great  and  glorious  company,  concerning 
whom  the  stranger,  beholding  their  red-coated  chuprassies  and 
the  state  which  attends  them,  might  well  inquire,  "  Who,  who 
are  these?"  Then  one  who  knew — and  everybody  knows — 
miffht  make  answer,  "  These  are  the  Covenanted  Ones.  These 
are  the  Judges  of  the  High  Court  and  all  those  who  dispense 
the  law  of  the  Raj,  the  Scions  of  the  Secretariat  and  other  De- 
partments, such  people  as  commissioners  and  Collectors  who  are 
in  authority  throughout  the  land,  the  Army !  Bow  down ! " 
The  stranger  would  then  remember  the  old  saying  in  the  mouths 
of  women  concerning  these,  "  Three  hundred  a  year  dead  or 
alive,"  with  reference  to  pensions,  which  at  one  time  was  dis- 


\UIB. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADl'EXTCKES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.       133 


!  coniforta- 
glory  and 
s  in  Eng- 
ve  liis  halo 
After  an 
md  a  little 
le   head   is 

fice  in  Cal- 
never  had 
nnconinion 
mtile  com- 
s  to  under- 
mehow  the 
e  direction 
?rvice  wear 
beir  pock- 

or  admira- 
3oncerning 
rassies  and 
Who,  who 
'  knows — 
?s.  These 
o  dispense 
other  De- 
rs  who  ai'e 
V  down ! " 
lie  mouths 
r  dead  or 
le  was  dis- 


i 


tiacLly  the  most  important  quotation  in  the  matrimonial  market 

for  India. 

Thereafter  follow  the  great  multitude  of  the  Uncoveuanted 
Ones,  the  men  whose  business  is  with  education,  and  science 
ami  engineering,  and  the  forests  and  the  police,  whose  personal 
usefulness  dies  with  them,  probably  because  they  get  less  i)ay 
and  less  furlough  while  they  live.  Tlie  hunum  heart  is  deceit- 
ful above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked,  and  it  has  lately 
entered  into  the  Uncoveuanted  kind  of  huuuin  heart  to  cavil  at 
this  arrangement.  It  has  had  the  audacity  to  suggest  that  it  is 
just  as  homesick,  that  it  sull'ers  just  as  much  from  the  clinuite, 
and  that  its  work  is  just  as  indispensable  as  can  possibly  be  the 
Covenanted  case.  I  believe  the  matter  is  with  the  Secretary  of 
State,  where  so  many  other  matters  have  tender  and  indelinite 
safe  keeping.  jMeanwhile  there  are  certain  positions  of  lustre 
among  the  Uncoveuanted  also,  but  they  are  few  to  count  aiul 
difficult  to  attain.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  a  large  proportion  of 
the  Uncoveuanted  Ones  keep  their  tags  in  their  pockets. 

I  have  heard  it  stated  that  an  expert  can  tell  a  Covenanted 
from  an  Uncoveuanted  individual  by  his  back,  given  a  social 
occasion  which  would  naturally  evoke  self-consciousness.  In 
the  case  of  their  wives,  one  need  not  be  an  expert.  Covenanted 
shoulders  are  not  obviously  whiter  or  more  classically  moulded 
than  the  other  kind,  but  they  have  a  subtle  way  of  establishing 
their  relations  with  Government  that  is  not  to  be  mistaken  even 
by  an  amateur.  The  effect  cannot  be  described,  and  may  be  ob- 
tained only  by  contrast.  You  look  at  Uncovenanted  shoulders, 
and  you  will  observe  that  they  fall  away.  You  consider  a  pair 
of  mercantile  ones,  and  however  massive  and  richly  girt,  you  Avill 
notice  that  they  suggest  a  slight  depreciation  of  themselves.  It 
is  only  the   Covenanted  neck  that  can  assert  itself  with  that  im- 


134 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


!l 
I        1 


:  I 


I . 


pressivo  uiicoiiRciousnoss  that  comes  from  tlu'  knowledge  of  con- 
stant homage — bones,  one  might  say,  or  no  bones.  Tliis  is  in 
accordance  with  the  will  and  intention  of  the  Government  of 
India,  and.  therefore  is  as  it  shonld  be.  It  is  the  Kaj  that  has 
accorded  this  lady  her  consideration,  therefore  in  no  quarter  is  it 
withheld.  The  feet  of  such  a  one  are  stayed  upon  a  rock ;  it 
has  never  been  hers  to  pick  her  anxious  way  among  the  quick- 
sands of  ordinary  social  advance,  ller  invitations  are  secure. 
She  is  ac(puiinted  with  the  luimber  and  magnitude  of  them,  she 
might  almost  demand  them  under  a  specific  regulation.  I  have 
never  heard  anybody  discuss  her  brains.  She  occupies  a  posi- 
tion which  an  intellect  no  doubt  adorns,  but  not  indispensably. 
ller  little  frivolities  are  the  care  of  the  Government  that  holds 
lier  in  the  hollow  of  its  hand.  Society  declines  to  be  Phari- 
saical about  them,  and  asks  her  to  dinner  just  the  same.  I'lic 
shifting  aristocracy  of  England  affords  nothing  like  her  secu- 
rity, her  remarkable  poise.  It  is  difiicult  to  understand  how, 
in  spite  of  all  this,  she  can  be  as  charming  as  she  occasionally 
is. 

It  was  in  my  mind  to  say  much  sooner  that  the  Brownes  were 
going  out  to  dinner.  They  had  gone  out  to  dinner  on  several 
occasions  already  among  the  people  who  had  known  young 
Browne  before  he  was  married,  but  the  occasions  had  been  in- 
formal, the  invitations  worded  "  quite  quietly,"  and  there  had 
been  no  champagne.  This  was  to  be  a  "  burra-khana,"  with  no 
lack  of  circumstance.  The  invitation  ran  thus : — "  My  dear 
Mrs.  Browne — Will  you  and  your  husband  give  Mr.  Peckle,  Mr. 
Cran  and  myself  the  pleasure  of  your  company  at  dinner  on 
Tuesday  the  27th,  at  eight  o'clock? — Yours  sincerely,  J.  L. 
Sayter." 

"  Old  Sayter ! "  remarked  Mr.  Browne.     "  It's  a  chummery, 


iiin. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


135 


Ige  of  con- 
Tliis  is  ill 
rnnicnt  of 
ij  that  lias 
imrter  is  it 

u  roc'iv ;  it 
the  qiiic'k- 
ire  secure. 

them,  she 
11.  1  luive 
ies  a  posi- 
ispens!il)ly. 
that  holds 

be  Phari- 
iine.     The 

her  seou- 
itand  how, 
r^casionally 

wnes  were 
on  several 
wn  young 
d  been  in- 
there  had 
"  with  no 
'  My  dear 
eckle,  Mr. 
[linner  on 
elv,  J.  L. 

uimmery, 


Nell.  They  called,  the  lot  of  them,  that  Sunday  we  went  uj)  the 
river." 

"A  chummery — that's  a  lot  of  bachelors  living  together," 
said  Helen. 

"Mot  necessarilv  bachelors — Savter's  a  bachelor,  ('ran  and 
Peckle  are  both  married  men,  wives  in  England.  It's  two  years 
since  Mrs.  Cran  went  home,  and  Mrs.  Peckle's  never  been  out, 
so  far  as  I  kiu)w.  In  fact,  we've  only  got  Peckle's  bare  word  for 
the  existence  of  a  Mrs.  J'eckle;  maybe  it's  a  llction  in  self-de- 
fence." 

"  George ! " 

"  Aiul  I  don't  know  tluit  he  doesn't  invent  the  little  Peckles. 
'J'o  hear  him  groan  over  their  expenses  you'd  think  thei-e  was  a 
new  one  every  year,  and  you  know  that's  manifestly — " 

"Gkohge!" 

"  I  was  going  to  say  improbable.  But  I  dare  say  there  are  a 
lot  of  'em.  Peckle  goes  home  once  in  three  or  four  years  and 
refreshes  his  memory  as  to  number  and  size.  After  that  he  al- 
ways has  a  fit  of  economy  and  puts  down  {i  horse  or  two." 

"  Poor  things  !  "  said  Helen,  pensively,  "  an  old  bachelor  and 
two  grass  widowers  !  llow  wretched  their  lives  must  be  !  Why, 
if  I  had  to  go  home  for  my  health,  dear,  I  can't  imagine  what 
would  become  of  you  ! " 

"  Y — yes !  No,  indeed,  darling  !  But  you  sha'n't  go  !  "  An 
interruption  foolish  but  inevitable.  "  As  to  those  old  fellows — 
well,  you'll  see.  It's  nither  a  swagger  chummery,  very  decent 
men,"  young  Browne  went  on,  "and  therefore,  my  dear,"  with 
mock  resignation,  "  they'll  give  us  all  sorts  of  unholy  indigesti- 
bles  to  eat,  and  your  husband  will  have  liver  of  the  most  fright- 
ful description  for  a  week." 

"  Liver,"  however,  very  seldom  ensues  in  the  early  days  of 


■^^T 


!  !li  ■ 


Kl 


1^   I 


IN 


136 


'/•//£   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIli. 


mjitrimoiiy,  and  llelen,  uniic((imiiitc'd  witli  this  doiiit'stic  bane, 
lau<dii'd  it  to  scorn.  It  was  her  unconscious  belief  tluit  tiie  idvUs 
of  tlie  l^rowncs  could  not  sutler  from  such  a  commonplace. 

Mr.  Sayter  wore  a  civil  tag  of  considerable  size;    the  other 
two  men  were  brokers.     Mr.  Sayter's  tag  was   not   ofTensively 


MR.   SAYTER, 


conspicuous,  was  not  in  fact  to  be  seen  at  all  unless  one  took  the 
trouble  to  observe  it  by  inference.  I  mean  that  a  critical  esti- 
mate of  Mr.  Sayter's  manner  would  discover  the  tag;  it  might 
be  detected  behind  his  attitude  and  his  aphorisms  and  the  free 
way  in  which  he  lifted  his  voice  upon  all  things.    Perhaps  it  was 


Alflli. 

rnestic  bune, 
lut  tlie  iilvlls 
1  place. 
;    tlio  otlior 
olTensively 


!ie  took  the 
ritical  esti- 
;  it  miglit 
id  the  free 
liaps  it  was 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  Of  A    MEMSAlllH.       137 

only  observable  in  the  course  of  time  uiul  the  progress  of  one's 
ac(iuaiMtunce  with  tagography.  At  first  sight  Mr.  Sayter  was  a 
little  grey  gentleman  witi?  a  look  of  shrinking  moilcsty  and  a 
pair  of  very  bright  eyes.  Indeed  Mr.  Saytcr  bore  himself  almost 
with  humility,  his  shoulders  had  a  very  unaggressive  slope,  and 
he  had  a  way  of  casting  down  his  eyes  as  he  talked  to  you  which 
did  not  suggest  a  lofty  spirit.  Custom,  however,  proved  Mr. 
Sayter's  modesty  to  be  rather  like  that  of  the  fretful  i)orcui)ine, 
his  humility  to  take  amused  su])erior  stand2)oints  of  o])inion,  and 
his  eyes  to  be  cast  down  in  search  of  clever  jests  tluit  were  just 
the  least  bit  wicked.  All  of  which,  in  Anglo-Jndia,  subtly  de- 
iu)tes  the  tag.  The  untagged  or  the  uudertagged  are  much  more 
careful  how  they  behave. 

Mr.  Saytcr  came  down  to  meet  them  in  the  hall  and  give 
Mrs.  Browne  his  arm  up  stairs,  as  is  the  custom  in  this  place. 
Helen  observed  that  the  wall  was  very  white  and  liigli  and  un- 
decorated,  that  the  lloor  was  tiled  with  blocks  of  nuu'ble,  aiul 
that  the  stairs  were  of  broad  polished  mahogjiny.  In  her  host 
she  saw  only  the  unobtrusive  Mr.  Sayter  with  a  reassuring  smile 
of  characteristic  sweetness  anxiouslv  getting  out  of  the  wav  of 
her  train.  Young  lirowne,  temporarily  abandoned,  followed 
them  up  discreetly,  and  at  the  top  ^frs.  Browne  was  introduced 
to  a  Calcutta  dinner-party  waiting  for  a  Calcutta  dinner. 

Among  the  various  low-necked  ladies  Helen  was  pleased  to 
recognise  Mrs.  Wodenhamer.  The  presence  of  ^Frs.  Woden- 
hamer  at  a  dinner  given  even  participially,  by  Mr.  Sayter,  indi- 
cates as  well  as  anything  the  inalienjible  privileges  connected 
with  the  wife  of  a  Commissariat  Colonel;  but  that  is  by  the  way. 
It  is  perhaps  enough  to  say  that  the  other  ladies  were  vjirious, 
one  or  two  young  and  rather  flippant,  one  or  two  middle-aged 

and   rather  fat,   verging   toward   Mrs.  Wodenhamer;   all   very 
10 


I  I 


'     , 


MR.    SAYTER   OAVE   MRS.   BROWNE   HIS   ARM. 


Ml 


[ 


7//E   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURim  OF  A    MEMSAUIH.      139 

aprooably  dressed,  except  Mrs.  Wodeiiluinier,  wlio  wore  crimson 
and  black;  all  extremely  self-possessed,  all  dis[M)seil  to  be  easily 
conversational.  I  might  itemize  their  husbands  standing  about 
in  degrees  of  eminence  antl  worldly  plethora  fairly  proportioned 
to  their  waistbands,  and  sharing  the  proud  consciousness  of 
having  contributed  a  wife  to  the  occasion.  I  ough:  to  men- 
tion also  Mr.  Cran  and  Mr.  Peckle,  though  I  need  not  dwell 
on  Mr.  Cran's  l)earded  baldness,  or  Mr.  i'eckle's  rosy  cxpan- 
siveness,  as  it  is  quite  unlikely  that  you  will  have  occasion 
to  recognise  them  out  of  their  own  house.  They  followed 
Mr.  8ayter  down  stairs  with  Mrs.  Wodenhamer  and  the  lady 
who  most  resembled  her,  when  the  sound  of  the  gong  came 
up.  Helen,  as  the  bride  of  the  occasion,  went  down  on  Mr. 
Sayter's  arm. 

"  Well,  >[rs.  Browne,"  said  ]\[r.  Sayter  presently,  giving  her 
an  amisible  glance  from  his  sou}),  "  what  do  you  think  of  us? 
Now  I  know  what  you're  going  to  say,"  he  continued,  holdin*'- 
up  a  bit  of  crust  in  a  warning  manner,  '"  You're  goinij  to  sav 
that  you  haven't  been  here  long  enough  to  form  an  oiMiiion,  or 
words  to  that  effect.     I'm  perfectly  right,  ain't  I  ?  " 

Helen  admitted  that  her  answer  might  have  been  "some- 
thing like  that." 

"  But  you  don't  mean  it,  vou  know.  Reallv  and  trulv  if 
you  think  a  minute,  you'll  find  you  don't  mean  it.  You've  got 
a  lovely  opinion  of  us,  all  ready  for  use,  in  this  last  month. 
And  very  proper  too.  The  very  first  thing  everybody  does  here 
is  to  form  an  opinion  of  Anglo-Indians.  It  can't  be  postponed, 
it'^  involuntary.  Besides,  it's  a  duty.  We  appeal  to  the  moral 
side.  We  call  out,  as  it  were,  for  condemnation.  Isn't  that  so, 
Wodenhamer  ?  " 

"Isn't  what  so?"  said  that  gentleman.     "Certainly.     Nal 


140 


rilE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  MEM  SAHIB, 


1.  W 


Ui 


1  \\ 

\  ■  I 


II 


'peg  do^"^*   to   the   kitmutgar  who  wanted  to  give  him  cliam- 
jiagne. 

"  You  should  have  been  listening.  I  decline  to  begin  again. 
I  was  trying  to  convince  Mrs.  Browne  that  India  is  the  only 
country  in  the  world  where  people  can  be  properly  applied 
to  for  their  impressions  before  they  leave  the  ship — the  way 
thev  do  in  America  with  travellers  of  distinction.  But  there's 
no  use  asking  Wodenhamer.  lie's  never  been  to  America,  and 
when  he  does  travel  he  goes  incog,  to  avoid  these  things." 

Colonel  Wodenhamer's  mutton-chop  whiskers  exjianded  in 
recognition  of  the  joke,  "  People  knov;  it  when  ijoil  travel,"  he 
said. 

"  That's  sarcastic  of  you,  Wodenhamer,  and  naughty  and 
unkind.  I  think  he  refers,  Mrs.  Browne,  to  the  fact  that  I  was 
gazetted  for  duty  in  Assam  last  month,  and  just  a  fortnight  and 
three  days  after  I  came  back  the  Briton  announced  that  I  was 
going.  Do  you  know  the  Briton  9  Capital  paper  in  many 
respects,  but  erratic  occasionally  in  matters  of  considerable  im- 
portance. Delicious  paper  for  description  of  ball  dresses.  I 
revel  in  the  Br  it  on'' s  ball  dresses." 

"  Who  d'you  think  does  that  sort  of  thing  for  them?"  Mr. 
Peckle  iiupiired.     "  Some  lady,  I  suppose." 

"  No  indeed,  Mr.  Peckle,"  volunteered  one  in  grey  bengaline 
and  gold  embroidery,  on  the  other  side  of  the  table.  "  It's 
Captain  Dodge,  if  you  please !  I  know,  because  at  the  Belvedere 
dance  on  Friday  he  came  and  implored  me  to  tell  him  what 
colour  Lady  Blebbins  was  wearing.  It  was  hyacinth  and  daifodil 
faille — the  simplest  thing,  but  he  was  awfully  at  a  loss,  poor 
fellow  !  And  afterwards  I  saw  him  put  it  down  on  the  back  of 
his  dance-card." 

*  Whisky  und  soda. 


THE   SIMri.E  AD  VEX  TV  RES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


141 


raliiie 
"  It's 

'cdcre 
wliat 

ifTodil 


w< 


"  I  diirosay  they  pay  for  sucli  things,"  Mr.  Peclde  remarked. 

"  I  fancy  Dodge  gets  ti  polo  pony  out  of  it,"  observed  Mr. 
Craii. 

"  1  didn't  give  that  man  Dodge  credit  for  so  much  imagina- 
tion," said  Mr.  Sayter.  "I  wonder  if  I  could  induce  him  to  put 
me  in  I  I'd  like  U)  be  treated  poetically  in  the  newspapers,  for 
once.  But  I'm  afraid  he  won't,"  Mr.  Savter  continued  sadlv, 
"because  I  can't  wear  mull  muslin — isn't  that  what  you  call  it?" 
to  Helen.  "  I  can't  wear  it  because  I  should  suffer  from  the 
cold,  and  yet  the  baboos  do  !  Tluit's  queer,  you  know.  The 
baboo  is  vain  enough  already,  and  I'm  not  vain  at  all ;  yet 
Heaven  permits  the  baboo  to  disport  himself  in  the  sweetest 
gossamer  aiul  threatens  me  with  fever  and  rheunuitism  if  I 
should  even  think  of  such  a  thing ! " 

"  But  surely,  Mr.  Sayter,"  Helen  interposed,  "  nobody  suffers 
from  the  cold  here  !  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear  lady  !  You  don't  know  !  The  cold  is  the  one 
thiuij:  we  can't  get  acclimatized  to  in  India !  To-night  it  would 
b((  Arctic  if  we  weren't  dining.  Kitmut(j(u\  bund  caro  dar- 
waza  !  *     We'll  have  a  fire  up  stairs  afterwards." 

"  A  fire  !  "  said  Helen  in  astonishment. 

"  Yes.  And  then  we'll  be  comfortable.  He  can  leave  all  the 
doors  and  windows  open,  you  know,  so  that  you  can  take  a 
severe  cold  if  you  want  to.  Although  this  is  a  country  governed 
by  a  merciless  despotism  we  don't  compel  ])eople  to  keep  well  if 
they'd  rather  not." 

"  I  can't  imagine  anybody  suffering  from  the  cold  in  Cal- 
cutta !  "  Helen  declared.  "  Why,  to-day  the  thermometer  stood 
at  eighty- three !" 

"  Oh,"  said  Mr.  Sayter,  "  how  I  envy  you. — What !  no  Roman 

*  Shut  the  door. 


I 


!sl 


Pi 


142 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  CE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


punch !  You  are  still  warm,  you  still  believe  in  the  ther- 
mometer, you  still  lind  the  baboo  picturesque — I  know  you  do ! 
Thank  .Heaven,  I  continue  to  like  Koman  punch — 1  retain  that 
innocent  taste.  But  I've  been  cold,"  said  Mr.  Sayter,  rubbing 
his  hand,  with  a  shiver,  "  for  years.  For  years  I've  had  no  faith 
in  the  thermometer.  For  years  I've  been  compelled  to  separate 
the  oil  from  the  less  virtuous  principles  in  the  baboo.  It's  very 
?l  sad,  ^Irs.  Browne,  but  you'll  come  to  it." 

"1  say,  Sayter,"  remarked  young  Browne,  who  was  singularly 
{j  P  without  respect  of  persons,  considering  that  he  lived  in  Calcutta, 

"  I  can't  have  you  frightening  my  wife  about  what  she'll  come  to 
in  Calcutta.  I  don't  want  her  to  develop  nervous  moral  appre- 
hensions— based  on  what  yoiCve  come  to  !  " 

Mr.  Sayter's  chin  sank  irto  his  necktie  in  official  deprecation 
of  this  liberty  on  the  part  of  a  junior,  and  a  mercantile  one,  but 
he  allowed  himself  to  find  it  humorous,  and  chuckled,  if  the 
word  does  not  express  too  vulgar  a  demonstration.  He  leaned 
back  and  fingered  his  empty  glass. 

''  Mrs.  Browne,"  he  said  deliberately  and  engagingly,  "  will 
come  to  nothing  that  is  not  entirely  charming."  And  he  smiled 
at  Helen  in  a  way  which  said,  "  There,  I  can't  do  better  than 
that."  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  could,  and  Helen,  as  she  blushed, 
was  blissfully  una^\aro  that  this  was  the  kind  of  compliment 
Mr.  Sayter  offered,  though  not  invidiously,  to  the  wives  of 
mercantile  juniors. 

"  Moral  apprehensions,"  repeated  Mr.  Sayter  slowly. — "  Xo  ! 
I've  had  you  for  ten  years," — he  apostrophized  the  kitmutgar — 
"  you've  grown  grey  in  my  service  and  fat  on  my  income,  and 
you  don't  know  yet  that  I  never  take  anything  with  a  hole  in  it 
like  that — and  pink  vegetables  inside  the  hole !  Mrs.  Browne, 
I'm  glad  you   refrained.      That's   the    single    thing    Calcutta 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXrVRES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


143 


-"  No ! 


■>  i 


dinners  teach — the  one  great  lesson  of  abstinence !  I  was  very 
clever  and  learned  it  earlv — and  vou  see  how  many  of  them  I 
must  have  survived.  But  talking  of  moral  apprehensions,  I 
know  you're  disappointed  in  one  thing." 

"  Xo,"  said  Helen,  promi)tly  ;  "  I  like  everything." 

"  Then  you  haven't  anticipated  us  properly — you  haven't 
heard  about  us.  You  ought  to  be  very  much  disappointed  in 
our  flagrant  respectability." 

"  But  I  like  respectability,"  Helen  replied,  with  honesty. 

"  Oh  I  There,  I'm  obliged  to  consider  that  you  come  short 
again,  Mrs.  Browne.  You're  not  in  sympathy  with  the  age.  1 
v'-^u't.  I'm  very  respectable  myself,  b  '  that's  not  my  fault. 
I've  never  had  the  good  luck  to  be  nuirried,  for  one  thing ;  and 
that,  in  India,  is  essential  to  a  career  oi  any  interest.  But  I  was 
once  quite  an  exceptional,  quite  an  original,  character  on  that 
account,  and  I'm  not  any  more.  Those  were  the  good  old  times. 
And  to  see  a  beautiful,  well-based,  well-deserved  reputation  for 
impropriety  gradually  disappear  from  a  social  system  it  did  so 
much  to  make  entertaining  is  enough  to  sadden  a  nuin  at  my 
time  of  life." 

"  Really,"  said  Helen ;  and  then,  with  a  little  bold  shivering 
plunge,  "Were  the  people  out  here  formerly  so  very — incorrect?" 

"  Oh,  deliciously  incorrect !  Scandals  were  really  artistic  in 
those  days.  I  often  wish  I  had  preserved  more  of  them ;  my 
memory's  getting  old  too.  I  find  myself  forgetting  important 
incidents  even  in  those  concerning  my  most  intimate  friends. 
And  how  people  spent  their  money  then !  Big  houses — turned 
into  boarding-houses  now — henps  of  servants,  horses — entertained 
like  princes !  Nowadays  people  live  in  flats,  and  cut  the  cook, 
and  save  to  the  uttermost  cowrie,  so  they  can  retire  a  year  earlier 
to  drink  beer  with  impunity  and  eat  mutton  chops  with  a  better 


;!  I 


144       77/A   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


V 

I: 

,! 


Jippetitc  ill  Eiighiiul.     Ignoble  age !     People — these  resiieetuble 
jieoplc — go  liome  second-class  now,  too,  and  pretend  to  be  com- 
fortable.    Disgraceful,  I  call  it." 
11  I  "  There  isn't  the  money  there  used  to  be,  Sayter,"  protested 

Mr.  Peckle.  "  In  those  days  a  man  got  a  decent  tuluh^  and  car- 
ried it  away  in  a  bag.  And  tiie  vile  rupee  was  worth  two  shil- 
lings." 

Mr.  Peckle  helped  himself  to  pistachios,  and  passed  the  port. 

"  1  believe  that  explains  it ! "  and  Mr.  Sayter  pressed  his  lips 
knowingly  together.  "  It  never  occurred  to  me  before.  Econo- 
my and  scandals  don't  go  together.  ^lake  a  man  economical, 
and  he  becomes  righteous  in  every  other  respect.  So  Govern- 
ment's to  blame,  as  usual.  I  think,  in  view  of  this,  we  ought  to 
memorialise  (Jovernment  to  drop  the  income-tax.  You  would 
sign,  wouldn't  you,  Mrs.  Wodonhamer  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  Mrs.  Wodenhamer  returned,  placidly.  "  Gov- 
ernment ought  to  get  the  income-tax  out  of  those  rich  natives. 
I  think  it's  a  shame  to  make  us  pay." 

"  Quite  right,  Mrs.  Wodenhamer !  These,  Mrs.  Browne,  are 
called  promotion  nuts  !  They're  useful  to  effect  the  permanent 
removal  of  your  superiors  from  office.  Very  nice  and  very  deadly. 
You  must  be  sure  to  have  them  when  you  ask  any  of  Browne's 
firm  to  dinner.  No,  I've  a  prejudice  against  them  ever  since 
they  were  once  offered  to  me  in  a  pudding.  I've  a  sad  associa- 
tion with  them,  too."     And  ]\Ir.  Sayter  looked  grave. 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Helen,  not  quite  sure  whether  she  ought  to 
make  her  tone  sympathetic. 

"  Yes,  they  always  come  on  just  as  the  ladies  are  leaving," 
twinkled  Mr.  Sayter;  and  Helen  became  aware  that  Mrs.  Woden- 
hamer was  looking  at  her  with  ponderous  significance.  There 
was  the  usual  gracious  rustle,  and  presently  the  ladies  were  com- 


V 


n^ 


ii^ 


I 

f 


m. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTVRES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB.       145 

fortiibly  uiitl  criticiilly  ensconcetl  in  the  (Irawing-rooiii,  sipping 
their  cotfee,  at  various  distiinces  from  tlie  indubitable  lire.  Tlie 
conversation  was  not  very  general.  "\irs.  Wodenhamer  discussed 
something  in  a  suppressed  voice  on  the  sofa,  with  the  lady  who 
approximated  her.  Helen  wondered  if  it  wcrv  J /uirrtnis.  There 
was  a])parently  some  symi)athy  between  the  grey  bengaline  and 
gold  embroidery  and  a  cream  crepe  de  Chine  and  pearls,  with 
very  yellow  hair.  A  little  incisive  lady  in  black  who  happened 
to  be  nearest  to  Helen,  asked  if  she  didn't  think  for  three  incti 
tlie  room  was  awfully  pretty.  Helen  said  she  did,  indeed;  and 
the  little  lady  in  black  continued,  with  an  entirely  unnecessary 
sigh,  that  men  certainly  t/id  know  how  to  make  themselves  com- 
fortable, there  was  no  doubt  about  that.  Did  Mrs.  Browne  ever 
see  anything  more  exqui.dte  than  that  water-colour  on  the  easel':' 
Mr.  IV'ckle  had  just  bought  it  at  the  Calcutta  Art  Kxhibition ; 
Mr.  Peckle  was  a  great  patron  of  art  and  that  sort  of  thing,  but 
then  he  had  to  be ;  lie  was  a  director,  or  something. 

"  Mv  husband  savs,"  remarked  Helen,  with  lamentable  indis- 
cretion,  "  that  there  isn't  anv  art  in  Calcutta." 

"  Does  he  ?  Oh,  I  think  that's  a  mistake.  Tliere's  Mrs.  Cub- 
blewell,  and  Colonel  Lamb,  and  ^[rs.  Tommy  Jackson,  ^frs. 
Tommy  jiaints  roses  beautifully,  and  I  do  a  little  on  satin  my- 
self ! "  Then,  as  if  it  were  a  natural  outgrowth  on  the  subject, 
"What  is  your  husband  here,  Mrs.  Hrowne?" 

"  He's  in  .Xfacintyre  and  Macintyre's." 

"Oh,  ?/e.s/" 

Whereafter  there  fell  a  silence,  during  which  the  little  lady 
in  black  seemed  to  be  debating  young  Browne's  probable  con- 
nection with  the  firm  of  Macintvre  and  ^[acintvre — it  sometimes 
made  such  a  difference — but  before  she  had  properly  made  up 
her  mind  the  gentlemen  api)eared,  and  there  ensued  that  uncer- 


1      !i 


.     I 


■I' 

'I 


?i! 


:iti 


1 ' , 


146       ^//>^'   SIMPLE  ADVEXTUkES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

tain  form  of  (.'onversation  which  hetrays  the  prevalent  desire  that 
somebody  should  "  make  a  move." 

Somebody  made  one  finally,  before  Mr.  Sayter  actually 
yawned.  The  Browues  drove  home  rather  silently  in  their  ticca- 
gharry. 

"Well?"  said  young  Browne  interrogatively,  chucking  his 
wife  tenderly  under  the  chin  in  a  moonlit  space  of  Chowringhee. 

"I  was  thinking,  George,"  said  she,  "that  I  didn't  see  any 
photographs  of  their  wives  about  the  room." 

"  No,"  said  young  Browne. 


*«(l 


THE    SlMFiM   ADVEXTUKES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


U7 


CHAPTER   Xlir. 


: 
i 
••i 


INDIA  is  a  country  of  iimelionitioiis.  The  punkah  is  an  amel- 
ioration. So  is  the  second-rate  tlieatrical  company  from 
Australia,  notwithstanding  its  twang.  So,  for  those  who  like  it, 
is  the  custard-apple.  It  is  our  com])laint  that  our  ameliorations 
are  too  numerous  and  too  obvious.  It  is  painful  to  us  that  they 
should  obscure  everything  else  in  the  vision  of  the  travelling 
PuTdHc,  and  suggest  themselves  as  the  main  facts  of  an  idyllic 
existence  which  runs  sweetly  among  them  to  the  tinkle  of  the 
peg  and  the  salaams  of  a  loyal  and  alfectionate  subject  race — 
which  they  do.  When  the  travelling  public  goes  back  and  repre- 
sents this  to  be  the  case  in  the  columns  of  the  Home  Press  we  do 
not  like  it.  The  effect  is  that  we  are  embittered,  and  the  single 
one  of  us  who  is  clever  enough  writes  the  ballad  of  "  Paget 
M.  P."  This  is  natural  and  proper.  We  are  none  of  us  con- 
stituted to  see  our  trifling  advantages  magnified,  and  our  tragic 
miseries  minimised,  especially  in  the  papers,  without  a  sense  of 
the  unpardonable  obtuseness  of  the  human  race.  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  be  drawn  into  personal  anathenui  in  this  chai)ter  though. 
It  will  always  be  so.  The  travelling  public  will  continue  to 
arrive  and  tarry  during  the  months  of  November,  December, 
January,  and  February,  and  to  rejoice  in  the  realisation  of  all 
they  have  ever  read  in  the  Sunday  School  books.  The  travelling 
public  will  continue  to  prefer  its  own  impressions.  In  British 
journalism  and  Ci  reat  British  Parliamentary  opinion  there  will 


148 


77//-;    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


I    \ 


V  A 


always  bo  a  stodgy  impracticability  which  the  returned  Aiiglo- 
Indiiin  can  never  be  strong  enough  to  influence.  We  are  a  little 
leaven,  but  we  cannot  leaven  the  whole  lump. 

We  die  too  soon.  Besides,  it  is  easier  and  more  comfortable 
to  philosophise  when  one  is  going  home  next  hot  weather  for 
good.  I  am  content,  as  I  write,  to  think  of  my  ameliorations 
even  with  gratitude,  and  will  only  say  what  so  many  have  said 
before  me,  that  a  protracted  residence  under  ameliorations  is 
necessary  to  the  full  uiulerstanding  of  how  grievous  a  thing  an 
ameliorated  existence  may  be. 

The  Brownes  were  not  contented  with  what  Nature  does  for 
us  in  this  way  in  the  cold  weather — green  peas  and  caulillowers, 
red  sunsets,  oranges  and  guavas  at  twopence  a  dozen.  Ever 
since  the  evening  they  dined  with  Viw  Sayter  they  had  been  of 
opinion  that  the  only  peoido  whose  existence  was  properly  amel- 
iorated in  Calcutta  were  the  people  with  the  joy  of  a  fireplace  in 
their  houses.  As  a  family  young  lirowne  declared  they  were 
entitled  to  a  fireside — it  was  monstrous  that  thcv  should  lack 
such  an  elemental  feature  of  the  domestic  liabit.  True  they 
had  a  "  siggaree,"  a  funnel-shaped  pot  of  charcoal,  like  every- 
body else — the  kitmutgar  made  toast  with  it  and  the  bearer 
dried  damp  sheets  over  it — but  one  couldn't  be  comforted  at  the 
risk  of  asphyxiation,  and  besides,  it  smelled.  There  was  nothing 
else,  and  the  I^rownes  felt  that  they  could  wv>i  accustom  them- 
selves to  gather  in  a  semicircle  round  a  tall  Japanese  vase,  or  a 
blank  space  in  a  white  wall  fifteen  feet  high,  for  anything  like 
cheerful  discourse.  They  considered  that  the  enduring  bliss 
which  they  seemed  to  have  taken  with  the  house  lacked  this  one 
thing  only.  It  was  impossible  to  persuade  the  Spirit  of  the 
Hearth  to  make  himself  comfortable  in  a  flower-pot. 

It  was  also  impossible  to  build  a  chimney — their  local  tenure 


HIB. 


THE  SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OE  A    A/E. USA ////>'.       14Q 


led  Anglo- 
lire  a  little 


omfortable 
eathor  for 
lelioratioiis 
i  have  said 
orations  is 
a  tliin<j  an 

'e  does  for 
lulillowors, 
!:en.     Ever 
id  been  of 
)erly  aniel- 
i replace  in 
they  were 
ould  lack 
'rue  they 
ke  e very- 
he  bearer 
ted  at  the 
IS  nothing 
)m  tlieni- 
vase,  or  a 
ling  like 
ing  bliss 
this  one 
it  of  the 

il  tenure 


i 


being  of  that  brief  and  uncertain  kind  which  is  po})Mlar  in  Cal- 
cutta. A  long  lease  is  not  desirable  when  a  neigld)ourhood  may 
develo])  typhoid  any  day,  when  beams  may  take  to  dropping  any 
night,  when  one  may  want  six  months'  leave  just  at  a  season 
which  is  unpropitious  for  sub-letting.  All  these  conditions  ob- 
tain in  Calcutta,  and  any  of  them  might  be  the  lirownes'  I  lie- 
sides,  a  chimney  would  cost  rupees  incalculable. 

There  were  alternatives,  however.  The  Brownes  went  to  the 
ironmonger's  to  look  at  them.  They  were  disposed  to  take  an 
alternative  if  it  could  be  had  at  a  moderate  price.  Most  of  those 
tliey  saw  were  connected  with  a  length  of  stove  i)ij)e  which  went 
through  the  wall,  some  of  them  were  decoratively  tiled,  some 
involved  a  marble  mantel,  and  they  all  required  an  outlay  which, 
for  a  matter  of  pure  sentiment,  seemed  large  to  the  Brownes. 

"  For  fortv-nine  weeks  in  the  vear,"  renuirked  voung  Browne 
'doomilv,  "  it  would  have  to  be  stored." 

"  Wouldn't  it  rust  ?  "  inquired  Helen. 

"  Inches !  " 

"  I  don't  think  we  can  depend  on  being  able  to  make  a  new 
hole  in  the  wall  every  time  we  move,"  ^Irs.  Browne  suggested. 
"  The  landlord  mightn't  like  it." 

"  We  could  always  arrange  to  fill  it  up  with  pur])le  glass  when 
we  leave.  If  we  did  that  the  baboos  would  eiK.'ourage  our  per- 
forations. So  much  do  they  love  coloured  glass  that  they  paper 
it  on  one  side,  and  thus  dissimulate." 

Helen  thought  this  ingenious,  but  it  did  not  alter  the  fact 
that  the  tiled  temptations  were  expensive.  Tlien  the  ironmon- 
ger's young  man,  rising  to  the  situation,  suggested  a  kerosene 
stove.  You  purchased  a  kerosene  stove,  he  said,  and  there  it 
was,  your  iiudienable  property,  or  words  to  that  effect.  It  didn't 
require  no  fittings,  nor  yet  being  built  into  the  wall.     It  would 


I     I 


150       THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXJLRES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIH. 

go  with  yon  anywheres,  it  didn't  want  a  stove  pipe  nor  yet  a 
liole.  It  didn't  go  in  for  l)eing  to  say  decorative,  not  exactly, 
but  then  see  how  olicerful  it  was.  Von  never  knew  till  yon  tried 
how  cheerfnl  kerosene  conld  be  !  The  young  man  gave  them  to 
understand,  moreover,  that  its  mechanism  eonld  ])e  com])re- 
hended  by  a  child  or  a  punkah  wallah.  And  they  had  no  idea 
to  what  extent  it  would  reduce  the  consuin])tion  of  coal.  The 
lirownes  listened  attentively,  and  when  the  young  man  paused 
and  rested  one  elbow  against  a  ])atent  punkah  nnichine  in  his 
exhaustion,  young  Browne  made  a  scientific  observation  of  the 
stove,  lie  turned  one  wick  uj)  and  the  other  down.  "  Seems  to 
work  all  right,"  he  said  to  Helen. 

"  Perfectly,  sir,"  said  the  ironmonger's  young  man. 

Yonnff  Browne  looked  at  him  curiouslv.  "  You  haven't  been 
long  out?"  he  remarked. 

"  No,  sir.  Only  three  weeks,  sir.  I  came  from  this  depart- 
ment in  William  Witely's,  sir." 

"  I  remember,"  said  Mr.  Browne,  "  they  do  like  to  sell  things 
there.     Three  months  in  Calcutta  and  you  won't  care  a  blow." 
'^     j  "That  so,  sir?"  the   young  man   returned,  smilingly.     "I 

^ope  not,  sir,  for  the  sake  of  business." 

"  It  is.  "What  do  you  think  of  this  thing,  Helen  ?  Shall  we 
liave  it  sent  up  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  nice  for  toffee,"  said  Helen.  "  And  I'm  sure  I 
can  make  toffee  cheaper  than  the  cook  does.  I  dare  say  it  would 
save  us  a  lot  in  toffee,  George." 

"  I'm  sure  it  would.  And  it's  only  thirty-tive  rupees — about 
two  pounds  seven,  at  the  current  rate  of  exchange.  It  isn't  just 
mv  ideal  of  a  fireside,  but  it  seems  the  best  we  can  do."  And 
the  next  morning  the  kerosene  stove  arrived  on  the  heads  of  fouJ" 

« 

coolies,  at  the  Brownes'  suburban  residence. 


ii 


.11 


(IB. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADl'l-.XrrRES  OF  A    AfEMSA/fin.        \z\ 


nor  yot  a 
i  exactlv, 
yon  tried 
e  tliom  to 
(  conipre- 
il  no  idea 
oal.  The 
111  pansed 
ine  in  liis 
on  of  tlie 
'  Seems  to 


ven't  been 

lis  dejiart- 

;ell  things 
blow." 
igly.     "  T 

Shall  we 

'm  sure  I 
it  would 

es — about 
isn't  just 
0."  And 
Is  of  foiii* 


'riic  ni^rht  was  j)ropitiously  and  comfortably  cold.     As  they 
drove  home  from  tennis  at  Mrs.  Jack  Lovitt's,  mullU'd  up  in  the 


\ 

I 

I 


i 

I 


MRS.    LOVITT. 


stri})ed  llannel  jackets  with  which  Calcutta  protects  itself  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather  after  tennis,  Helen  declared,  with 
the   kerosene   stove    in   anticipation,  that  it  was  really  almost 


I'  1 


I    I 


152       THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAI/IIi. 

piercing.  "  It's  11  pity,  though,  CJcorgc,"  sho  said  rogivt fully, 
'' thiit  wc  were  (luite  in  such  a  liurry  al)«)ut  buying  tlie  stove,  for 
1  was  telling  Mrs.  Lovitt  about  it,  and  she  said  sjie  was  so  sorry 
she  didn't  know  we  wanted  one — we  could  have  had  theirs,  and 
it's  in  perfect  order,  for  ten  rupees." 

''Oh,  next  cold  weather,"  returned  her  lord,  ''we'll  have  the 
pleasure  of  selling  ours  for  ten  ru]»ee8  instead.  It  comes  to  much 
the  same  thing,  you  see." 

It  is  almost  imjjossible  to  persuade  a  sahib  of  Calcutta  to  take 
liis  domestic  accounts  seriously.  If  his  natural  })roclivities  arc 
in  that  direction,  ho  is  usually  not  to  be  respected. 

The  Brownes  had  a  hum})  for  dinner,  and  a  hump  costs  a 
rupee  and  several  annas.  Nevertheless  they  hurried  through  it, 
the  more  speedily  to  avail  themselves  of  their  unaccustomed  lux- 
ury in  kerosene,  to  "cluster  round  the  cheerful  blaze,"  as  (Jeorge 
lirowne  put  it,  which  stood  solemnly  between  two  long  windows 
in  the  drawing-room  awaiting  a  match.  Entering,  they  found 
the  bearer,  the  kitmutgar  and  the  nudlie  kneeling  about  it,  with 
varied  expressions  of  concern,  the  machine  still  grim  and  black, 
in  the  midst  of  a  pervasive  odour  of  kerosene.  The  Brownes 
felt  palled.     It  was  not  what  they  had  expected. 

"  liilciil  na  hona  sycta,''''  *  said  the  bearer,  rising  and  survey- 
ing the  thing  as  if  it  were  an  obdurate  Hindu  deitv. 

"AVhat  does  he  say?"  inquired  Mrs.  Browne.  ^Irs.  Browne 
was  always  inrpiiring  what  the  bearer  said.  Mr.  Browne  was 
rapidly  becoming  a  peripatetic  hand-book  of  Hindustani.  lie 
imi)lore(l  his  wife  to  have  a  mnns]ii^\  and  Helen  thought  it 
would  be  delightful  but  sternly  declined  on  the  score  of  economy. 
So  young  Browne  had  no  surcease. 


Simply  it  may  not  be  ! 


f  Instructor, 


(in. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTUKES  OF  A    MEMSAIUK.      i  c;3 


';,M*t't  fully, 

stove,  for 

IS  so  sorry 

heirs,  aiul 

lijivo  the 
!S  to  imu'li 

tta  to  take 
ivities  are 

lip  costs  a 

lirou;j:li  it, 

:ome(l  lux- 

as  (icorgo 

y  windows 

hoy  found 

it  it,  with 

nd  black, 

Brownes 

11(1  survey- 

i.  Browne 
ownc  was 
tani.  He 
louglit  it 
economy. 


{ 


4 


^''Alhut  hona  sucta!^^^  said  he,  going  upon  his  own  knees 
before  the  refractory  divinity.  Helen  stood  by  with  suj)erior  in- 
terest and  knitted  Itrows,  after  the  manner  of  women. 

'''•  Dyn-Hilai  hum  ko-do!''  \  enunciated  the  sahib. 

Heep  relief  became  visible  upon  tiie  faces  of  the  bearer,  the 
kitmutgar,  and  the  mallie.     The  sahib  was  omnipotent. 

Mr.  Browne  presently  discovered  that  the  wicks  had  dro])ped 
into  the  oil  reservoirs.  He  proceeded  to  take  the  newly  inii)orted 
fireside  upon  his  la}),  so  to  speak,  and  unscrew  it,  his  wife  re- 
marking meanwhile  that  she  supposed  it  was  quite  safe.  He 
rescued  the  wicks,  but  Helen  has  since  mournfully  given  me  to 
understand  that  certain  of  the  garments  he  had  on  were  never 
tenable  afterwards. 

Then  they  applied  a  match  to  engender  the  sacred  fire  upon 
their  hearth,  and  it  was  engendered  in  two  long  narrow  flames 
that  flared  up  in  yawning  tin  chasms  on  either  side  and  sent  be- 
fore them  a  wreathing  blackness  of  smoke  which  escaped  ra])idly 
through  the  holes  on  tlic  top  for  the  saucepan  and  the  gridiron. 

"It  is  cheeiful,"  said  Helen  insistently.  "But  it  seems  to 
need  a  stove  pipe  after  all,"  she  added,  in  doubt. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  her  husband,  "only  to  be  turned  down." 
So  he  turned  it  down  to  a  wavering  blue  and  yellow  lino,  and 
closed  the  doors. 

"  Finish  hii?''''  inquired  the  bearer,  and  the  sahib  said  yes,  it 
was  finished,  so  the  bearer,  the  kitmutgar  and  the  mallio  re- 
paired to  the  simpler  solaces  of  sentimental  organisations  less 
subtly  devised  than  ours. 

These  two  exiled  Brownes  drew  up  chairs  and  tried  to  fool  at 
least   anticipative  appreciation.     There  were   two  round   trans- 


*  Without  doubt  it  may  be  I 
11 


f  Give  ME  the  matches. 


154       THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


I 


V  I 


Vl  parent  holes  in  the  doors  through  which  they  could  see  a  refloc- 

i  tion  of  their  glowing  hearth.     They  leaned  towards  it  and  spread 

i  out  their  hands.     Young  Browne  remarked,  with  a  chill  smile, 

I  that  it  was  certainly  warmer  than   it  had  been.     They  pulled 

V  their  chairs  closer  together,  in  order,  1  have  no  doubt,  to  impede 

'11  the  heat  that  might  escape  into  other  quarters  of  the  room. 

Helen  slipped  her  hand  into  her  husbaiurs,  and  together  they 

looked  thoughtfully  into   the  depths  of  the  burning  wick.     I 

think  the  way  in  which  they  must  have  regarded   this   thing, 

which  was  to  mean  for  them  the  essence  of  home  life  in  an  un- 

homelike  country,  and  the  warm  glow  of  home  love  caught  and 

held  where  it  is  reputed  apt  to  stray  abroad,  was  not  altogether 

laughable  though.     In  fact 

"XtV//>.'"  exclaimed  young  Browne,  and  had  occasion  to 
bring  his  chair  closer  still  There  was  a  moist  contact  of  cheeks 
and  a  succession  of  comforting  silences.  The  kerosene  stove 
continued  to  burn  excellently,  but  was  disregarded. 

"It  looks  like  some  kind  of — of  engine,  doesn't  it,  George?" 
Mrs.  Browne  recovered  herself  sufficiently  to  say. 

"Yes.  Beastly  thing!"  concurred  young  Browne  in  further 
disparagement.  Then  they  began  to  observe  the  elTect  of  the 
heat  on  the  varnish.  It  took  the  form  of  a  hot  penetrative  un- 
pleasant smell  that  radiated  from  the  kerosene  stove  into  every 
quarter  of  the  room. 

"I  expect  it  will  wear  off,"  said  young   Browne  gloomily, 
i  \  "  but  we'd  better  put  the  thing  out  in  llie  compound  every  night 

\  until  it  does." 

\ 

J    f  It  has  never  worn  off,  however.      Helen,  with  responsible 

memory  of  the  thirty-five  rupees,  used  it  conscientiously  all  last 
cold  weather.  She  did  serious  and  light-minded  cooking  with  it 
while  she  suffered  the  delusion  that  she  was  Kali  Bagh's  superior 


\\< 


i 


IB. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVE.WTL'RES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


155 


>  a  rcflcc- 
id  spread 
ill  smile, 
'V  pulled 
D  impede 
ho  room, 
ther  thev 
wick.  I 
is  thing, 
11  an  un- 


Light  and 
Itogether 


3asion  to 
of  cheeks 
Mie  stovo 


rcorge 


r)H 


II  further 
:t  of  the 
iitive  un- 
to every 

gloomily, 
Iry  night 


— inevitable  but  short — and  she  made  almost  enough  tolTee  upon 
it  to  justify  its  expense,  if  it  had  been  necessary  to  sul)sist  upon 
tolTee.  Whenever  anything  could  be  done  with  it  tlie  lirowues 
did  it.  Thev  had  it  lighted  to  welcome  their  return  from  hurra- 
klianas  and  (Jovernment  Iiouse  dances,  and  on  one  occasion 
Helen  sat  for  half  an  hour  before  it  in  her  most  cherished  gown, 
under  a  shower  of  softly  falling  black  Hakes  of  carbonized  kero- 
sene without  l)eing  aware  of  it — the  result  of  an  injudicious 
lighting  and  forgetting  on  the  part  of  the  bearer.  Many  au 
evening  they  .^at  in  its  presence  nuiking  efforts  at  hilarity  and 
trying  to  forget  the  odours  of  varnisli  and  kerosene — in  the  q\\(\ 
tiiey  always  confessed  it  inadequate.  It  had  a  self-contained 
moroseness,  it  never  smipped  or  s])arkleil  or  died  down.  When 
tiiev  went  to  bed  thev  turned  it  out.  Through  its  two  round 
eyes  it  mocked  their  homesick  eiTort  after  the  cheer  of  other 
lands.  T'he  bearer  admired  it  and  took  })i'ide  in  setting  it  alight. 
But  the  Brownes  regarded  it  with  feelings  that  grew  constantly 
more  '*  mixed.'"  It  made  no  ashes  and  gave  no  trouble,  and 
when  they  didn't  want  it  it  was  not  there — all  (»f  which  seemed 
additional  olfences. 

The  old  kite  that  surveved  them  alwavs  through  the  window 
from  his  i)erch  in  the  sago  ])alm  beside  the  veranda  .^^aid  nothing, 
but  if  thev  had  been  intelligent  thev  might  have  heard  the  jack- 
als  that  nightly  pillaged  the  city's  rubbish  heaps,  howling  derision 
at  the  foolishness  of  a  sahib  who  tried  to  plant  his  hearth-stone 
in  India. 


ponsible 
all  last 
with  it 

■superior 


156 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB, 


CHAPTEK   XIV. 

RS.  BROWNE  was  not  permitted  to 
know  any  of  her  immediate  neigh- 
bours, which  slie  thought  unfor- 
tunate. It  was  a  pity  in  a  way,  and  yet  not  a 
great  pity,  for  if  I  know  anytliing  about  Helen 
Browne  she  would  not  have  been  able  to  assimi- 
late her  neighbours  comfortably.  Un- 
less they  live  with  the  great  and  good 
in  Chowringhee,  it  is  often  difficult  for 
Calcutta  people  to  do  this.  It  is  said 
that  the  missionaries  manage  it,  but 
about  this  no  one  is  certain,  for  between  Calcutta  people  and 
the  missionaries  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed.  Calcutta  interprets 
the  missionary  position  with  strict  logic.  It  was  not  Calcutta 
— Calcutta  proper — that  the  missionaries  came  out,  second  class, 
to  establish  intimate  spiritual  relations  with,  but  the  heathen. 
Calcutta  is  careful,  therefore,  not  to  interfe  <?  in  any  way  with 
this  very  laudable  arrangement ;  the  good  work  must  not  be 
retarded  by  any  worldly  distraction.  Calcutta  contributes  to  it, 
in  her  own  peculiar  way,  by  allowing  the  missionaries  the  full- 
est possible  opportunity  for  becoming  acquainted  with  the  hea- 
then. If  one  does  not  readily  suspect  the  self-denial  in  this,  it  is 
because  one  is  predisposed  against  society — it  is  perhaps  because 
one  has  been  snubbed. 


K 


'B. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTLRES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIH.       \'^j 


nitted  to 
te  ncigh- 
t  iinfor- 
('ct  not  a 
Lit  Helen 
;o  assimi- 
►ly.  Un- 
md  good 
Ticult  for 
t  is  said 
)  it,  but 
jople  and 
iterprets 
Calcutta 
id  class, 
Iheathen. 
ay  with 
not  be 
|es  to  it, 
he  full- 
he  hea- 
his,  it  is 
because 


I  cannot  say  with  accuracy,  therefore,  wliether  a  iiiissioiiary 
in  Mrs.  JJrowne's  })lace  would  have  known  Kadabulliil)  .Mitter- 
jee,  Bahadur,  who  lived  next  door  to  the  west ;  doubtless  she 
would  have  made  attempts,  at  least,  to  introduce  herself  to  the 
ladies  who  divided  the  matrimonial  dignities  of  his  establish- 
ment ;  but  it  did  not  occur  to  Helen  that  there  was  any  opening 
for  such  advances  upon  her  i)art.  Even  the  slits  of  windows 
which  commanded  the  Browne  compound  were  generally  shut 
and  always  iron-barred;  no  dangerous  communication  from  an 
unveiled  memsahib  who  ate  with  her  husband  could  get  in  tiiere. 
It  was  a  little  narrow,  silent,  yellow  house,  too  tall  for  its  width, 
much  overgrown  witii  heavy-hanging  trees,  and  it  stood  a  long 
way  back  from  the  road,  looking  out  on  a  strip  of  compound, 
through  a  glass  door,  purple  in  places  and  green  in  places,  and 
altogether  brilliant  to  behold.  The  strip  of  compound  was  a 
marvel  of  rectangular  crookedness.  It  was  a  good  deal  taken 
up  with  a  tank,  a  long  narrow  tank  covered  with  a  generous 
green  slime,  dug  rather  sidewise.  The  rest  of  the  place  was 
divided  into  small  sharp-angled-beds  with  rows  of  stones.  They 
were  very  much  at  odds  with  each  other,  and  nothing  grew  in 
them  but  a  few  ragged  rose-bushes,  and  flagrant  things  that  came 
of  their  own  accord.  Almost  everv  evening  H.  Mitterjee,  Baha- 
dur,  went  out  to  drive.  The  Brownes  used  to  meet  him  in  the 
broad  Red  Road  that  cleaves  the  Muidan,  where  the  landaus,  and 
victorias,  and  tum- turns  of  Calcutta  amuse  themselves  by  jiassing 
and  repassing,  and  bowing  to  each  other,  in  the  pleasant  i)art  of 
the  day,  before  the  quick  darkness  comes  and  sends  them  all 
home  to  dinner.  Nobody  bowed  to  Radabullub,  and  he  bowed 
to  nobody,  though  assuredly  no  sahib  drove  in  so  resplendent  a 
gharry  as  his.  It  was  built  on  the  most  imposing  lines,  with 
ornamentation  of  brass,  and  a  beautiful  bunch  of  flowers  j)ainted 


:    i 


158       77/A    SJMPI.E   ADVEXTUKES   OE  .1    MEM  SAHIB. 

on  eitlier  door-paiiol.  And  it  was  pulled  by  two  of  the  most  ini- 
pctuoiis  ])raii('iii,i;  stoods  in  silvor  mounted  harness,  that  the  soul 
of  a  Baliaihir  could  desire.  The  silver  moiintinji^s  were  very 
rusty,  and  the  j)raiu,'ing  steeds  lamentably  weak  in  their  fore  legs, 
but  the  soul  of  a  Bahadur  is  not  perturbed  ijy  little  things  like 
that.  IiadabuUub  leaned  back  behind  theui  su})erciliously,  fold- 
iug  his  arms  over  his  tight  silk  coat  of  pink  brocade,  or  twisting 
his  moustache.  With  his  embroidered  yellow  turban  at  a  certain 
angle,  this  Bahadur  was  a  killing  fellow — very  much  a  man  of 
the  world  indeed,  but  not  enough  to  know  a  good  horse  when  he 
saw  it,  or  to  be  able  to  drive  it  if  he  did,  or  to  understand  what 
earthly  dill'erence  it  made  to  a  .sahib  how  his  servants  were 
dressed.  His  own  sat  behind  in  a  cluster — he  had  more  of  them 
than  anv  sahib — in  turbans  of  the  colours  thev  most  fancied,  and 
alike  only  in  the  respect  that  they  were  all  dirty  and  down  at 
lieels,  if  the  expression,  in  a  shoeless  case,  is  ])roi)erly  ajjplied. 
V>\\\  when  it  was  necessary  to  prepare  the  way  none  shouted 
louder  or  ran  faster  than  the  servants  of  IiadabuUub  Mitterjee, 
who  ])robably  thought  that  there  ought  to  be  a  sensible  dilTerence 
between  the  apparel  of  a  .syce  and  i)iidv  brocade,  and  a[)i)roved  it. 
T{adal)ullub  did  iu>t  alway.s  drive  in  the  Ked  Road  alone.  Some- 
times the  cushion  beside  him  was  occu])ied  bv  a  verv  small  and 
high-shouldered  edition  of  him.self,  encased  i!i  blue  .satin  with 
gold  edgings.  This  Bahadur  in  embryo  folded  his  arms  like  his 
father  and  looked  at  the  Red  lioad  with  equal  sui)erciliousness  ; 
indeed,  I  fancy  he  took  much  the  same  views  of  life  generally. 
Thev  are  earlv  inheritiMl  in  Bengal. 

But  the  ladies,  the  ^Fesdames  Mitterjee,  when  they  issued 
forth  from  the  little  silent  yellow  house,  which  they  did  but  sel- 
dom, went  most  securely  in  charge  and  under  cover,  and  ^^rs. 
Browne  might  look  in  vain  for  any  glimpse  of  their  fascinations 


1:^  I 


(IB. 

most  im- 
Lt  tlio  soul 
wcrt'   very 
fore  legs, 
'lings  like 
iisly,  fold- 
r  twisting 
t  a  crrtaiii 
a  man  of 
[»  when  he 
tand  what 
ants  were 
•e  of  tliem 
neied,  and 
1  (h)\vn  at 
y  applied, 
e   shouted 
Mitterjee, 
di  Here  nee 
proved  it. 
Some- 
mall  and 
atin  with 
s  like  his 
iousness  ; 
generally. 

\v  issued 

|1  hnt  sel- 

md   ^frs. 

•inations 


! 


4 


as 

> 
o 


I, 


y. 


l6o       7///i    SIMPLE   ADl'KNTUREti  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


V 


I    I 


* 


I 


Ijeliind  tlie  purple  curtains  of  their  pulauquins,  as  they  passed 
lier  giite. 

I  don't  know  the  name  of  the  peo})le  on  the  other  side,  and 
neither  does  Mrs.  Browne.  They  seemed  to  live  a  good  deal  in 
the  veranda  in  an  untidy  way.  Helen  could  always  command  a 
man  asleep  tliere  in  pyjamas  from  her  drawing-room  window,  up 
to  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  They  paid  no  more  attention 
to  their  com})ound  than  Hadalnillub  did,  but  they  had  a  leggy 
bay  colt  tied  up  there  upon  which  the  family  lavished  the  tender- 
est  alfection.  When  the  Brownes  drove  home  in  the  early  dark- 
ness from  tennis,  they  could  usually  see  a  casual  meal  going  on 
through  an  open  window  at  which  the  discourse  was  very  cheer- 
ful and  general,  the  men  in  shirt-sleeves,  the  ladies  posed  negli- 
gently with  their  arms  upon  the  table.  There  was  a  baby,  a 
cracked  piano,  and  a  violin  in  the  house,  but  the  baby  had  a  good 
constitution  and  went  to  bed  at  eight  o'clock,  and  it  did  not 
seem  to  the  Brownes,  as  they  listened  to  the  songs  their  neigh- 
bours sang  after  dinner,  that  the  piano  was  very  much  out  of 
tune.  Tiiey  were  old  old  songs  that  everybody  knew,  sung  with 
great  s{)irit  and  energy,  chiefly  in  chorus,  and  Mrs.  Browne's 
slipper  kept  time  to  them  with  great  enjoyment.  A  boisterous 
old  song  in  Calcutta  Avas  a  pleasant  anomaly  and  struck  through 
the  numgo  trees  like  a  voice  from  home.  The  hearts  of  the 
Brownes  warmed  towards  their  neighbours  as  they  smote  the 
languid  air  with  "  Do  ye  ken  John  Peel  with  his  coat  so  gay?" 
and  as  it  came  again  and  again,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Browne  smiled  at 
each  other  and  joined  softly  in  the  chorus,  being  comforted 
thereby.  It  was  rather  an  additional  attraction  that  these  har- 
monies grew  a  little  beery  later  in  the  evening.  Young  Browne 
could  drink  beer  in  Calcutta  only  under  pain  of  his  own  later  dis- 
pleasure— a  bitter  thing  for  an  Englishman. 


'IB. 

ey  passed 

side,  and 
d  deal  in 
mmand  a 
ndow, up 
attention 
id  a  leggy 
le  tender- 
irly  dark- 
going  on 
;ry  cheer- 
sed  negli- 
i  babv,  a 
id  a  good 
:  did  not 
ir  neigli- 
h  out  of 
ling  with 
Browne's 
oisterous 
through 
of  the 
lote  the 
gay  ?  " 
niled  at 
niforted 
3se  har- 
Browne 
ter  dis- 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIH.       l6l 

They  were  jockeys,  these  i.'eighbours  of  the  Browiies' — from 
Australia  verv  likelv,  with  the  last  batch  of  Waler  horses.  'I'licv 
belonged  to  the  class  Calcutta  knows  collectively,  as  a  siib-soi'ial 
element,  that  nevertheless  has  its  indeterminate  vahic,  being 
white,  or  nearly  so,  as  a  rule.  The  aristocracy  of  the  class  is 
probably  re])resented  by  the  commissariat  sergeants  and  tiie  local 
police,  and  1  have  no  doubt  it  observes  its  rules  of  })recedence, 
though  it  is  unlikely  that  Mrs.  Browne's  neighbours  had  much 
regard  for  them.  On  certain  davs  of  the  vear  Calcutta  makes 
brief  acquaintance  with  "Light  Blue  and  Canary,'' or  "  (Jreen 
Pink  Sleeves,"  but  his  wife  and  Ijaby  go  on,  one  might  say,  with- 
out orticial  sanction  of  any  sort ;  they  are  })ermitt('d.  So  it 
doesn't  matter  to  anybody  what  Light  Blue  iind  Canary's  Chris- 
tian name  is — ins  caj)  and  sleeves  are  enough.  Occasionally  the 
rej)orters  are  obliged  to  find  it  out  when  Light  Blue  and  Canary 
breaks  his  wretched  neck  and  half  ruins  a  beautiful  horse,  and 
the  public  have  to  be  informed  of  it.  Then  his  friends  dress 
Light  Blue  and  Canarv  in  mufti  and  bury  him  earlv  next  morn- 
iug  in  Circular  Road  Cemeterv,  and  there  is  the  most  annoviui; 
confusion  when  both  he  and  his  horse  have  to  be  scratched  for 
the  afternoon's  races.  As  to  the  wife  and  baby  under  tiiese  cir- 
cumstances, they  still  go  on,  it  is  supposed. 

I  regret  to  sav  that  the  Brownes  were  bounded  on  the  north 
by  a  bustee.  It  is  not  necessary  to  explain  that  a  bustee  is  an 
unsavoury  place,  the  word  has  a  taste  and  a  smell  of  its  own. 
One  is  alwavs  aware  of  the  vicinity  of  a  bustee,  chiefly  because  of 
the  bovine  nature  of  the  fuel  it  consumes.  It  is  impossible  to 
put  it  less  vulgarly  than  that.  All  over  Calcutta,  in  the  cold 
weather,  there  hangs  at  set  of  sun  a  blue  cloud  of  smoke  with  an 
acrid  smell.  It  offends  the  nostrils  of  the  verv  Viceroy,  vet  it  is 
not  in  the  power  of  any  municipal  Commissioner  to  put  out  the 


1 62       THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


\\ 


fires  tliut  soiul  it  \\\i.  It  curls  tlirough  a  thousand  roofs,  tlu- 
tik'd  roofs  of  the  country,  representing  niucli  humble  comfort 
and  many  humble  dinners,  and  every  morning  on  the  !Maidan 
you  nuiy  see  ugly  old  women  stooping  to  collect  the  nniterial  for  it. 
IJustees,  moreover,  are  never  drained.  They  and  their  inhabit- 
ants fester  comfortably  through  the  long  blue  and  green  Indian 
days  unconscious  that  their  proximity  does  not  enhance  rents. 

Mrs.  Hrownc  found  her  bustee  neighbours  more  approachable. 
Her  dressing-room  window  overlooked  the  place  and  gave  her  a 
})oint  of  speculation  which  she  enjoyed  quite  shamelessly.  A 
young  papoia  tree  flourished  in  a  corner  of  the  roof  she  looked 
down  upon,  and  various  forms  of  vegetables  fringed  it.  It  was 
the  daily  promenade  of  the  family  cock,  and  occasionally  a  black 
goat  took  the  air  there.  The  cock  Hew  up,  but  the  goat  always 
made  use  of  the  familv  staircase.  The  familv  lived  mostly  in 
the  yard — three  old  women  and  five  babies.  The  old  women 
wore  various  kinds  of  rags,  the  babies  were  uniformly  dressed  in 
a  string.  The  biggest  baby  carried  the  littlest  about,  astride  her 
hip,  and  they  all  played  together  in  one  corner,  where  they  nuide 
nuirvels  in  mud,  just  as  children  who  wear  clothes  do.  The  old 
women  scolded  them  severally  and  collectively,  especially  when 
they  came  and  teased  for  breakfast  with  pathetic  hands  upon 
their  little  round  stomachs.  The  oldest  of  the  old  women  cooked 
the  breakfast,  and  she  would  not  have  it  hurried.  She  cooked  it 
in  a  single  pot  that  stood  on  a  mud  firejlace  in  the  middle  of 
the  yard,  scjuatting  before  it,  feeding  tlie  flames  with  one  hand 
and  stirring  the  mess  with  the  other.  Helen  could  see  what  she 
])ut  in  it — rice,  and  more  rice,  and  yellow  dhol,  and  last  of  all 
pieces  of  llsh.  As  she  cooked  the  wonum  looked  U])  at  Helen 
now  and  then  and  smiled,  amused  that  she  should  be  interested 
in  so  poor  an  occupation — a  memsahib  !     And  the  babies,  when 


'IB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB.       163 


roofs,  tlu! 

I  comfort 

)  Maidau 

rial  for  it. 

•  iniiabit- 

n   Indian 

rents. 

'oachable. 

iVG  lior  a 

ossly.     A 

le  lookt?d 

;.     It  was 

ly  a  black 

at  always 

mostly  in 

d  women 

ressed  in 

tride  her 

ley  made 

Tbe  old 

lly  when 

ids  upon 

11  cooked 

?ooked  it 

iddle  of 

lie  hand 

Ahat  she 

1st  of  all 

t  Helen 

terested 

ps,  when 


they  discovered  her,  stood  open-moutlied  and  gazed,  fori;etting 
the  })ot.  In  the  house  they  divided  it  upon  plantain  leaves,  a 
jjopular dinner  service  in  Bengal;  and  wlien  the  babii'S  issued 
I'orlli  again,  in  lile,  their  ajipearance  was  quite  aldermanic.  The 
old  women  perhaps  reposed,  the  sun  grew  liot  on  the  window- 
ledge,  and  Helen  thought  of  other  things  to  do.  In  the  evening, 
tiioiigh,  when  the  hibiscus  bushes  threw  long  shadows  across  the 
garden  i)ath,and  Helen  waited  for  her  lord  by  the  gate  as  a  bride 
will,  the  babies  came  round  tiirough  devious  lanes  to  assert  them- 
selves as  the  same  babies  of  the  morning  and  eligible  for  pice. 
Hi'k'ii  felt  an  elementary  joy  in  bestowing  it,  and  the  babies  re- 
eeivetl  it  solemnlv,  as  entirely  their  due,  with  little  salaams  for 
form's  sake.  There  was  tremendous  interest  on  both  sides,  but 
beyond  the  statement  that  the  babies  lived  in  the  little  house, 
and  the  memsahib  in  the  big  one,  conversation  was  difllcult,  and 
Helen  thought  with  concern  of  the  vocabulary  that  would  be 
necessarv  in  order  to  teach  them  about  man's  chief  end.  Thev 
came  every  day  to  watch  the  going  forth  of  the  Hrownes  in  the 
tum-tum,  and  made  a  silent,  open  eyed,  admiring  little  group 
beside,  the  gate,  at  whicii  the  pony  usually  shied.  Then  young 
Hrowne  would  crack  his  whip  in  the  air  very  fiercely  indeed,  and 
address  them  in  language  that  sounded  severe,  though  it  iiad  no 
perceptible  effect.  Even  the  babies  in  Hengal  accept  the  sahib 
as  a  blustering,  impolite  person  of  whom  nobody  need  be  afraid. 
And  then  opposite,  across  the  weedy  road  K.id  the  stagnant 
ditch,  a  riotous  Hajali  resided,  in  a  wonderful  castellated  place 
with  four  or  five  abandoned  acres  around  it.  The  Kajali  was 
very  si)leiidid  and  important.  He  had  a  slouching  guard  at  his 
gate  with  a  gun,  who  probably  bullied  the  dhoby  ;  and  when  he 
went  abroad  in  the  evenings,  four  badly  uniformed  horsemen, 
and  no  less,  pranced  uncertainly  behind  his  carriage.     The  Ra- 


164 


TIIK   SIMri.E   ADVEXTL'KES   OF  A    MKMSAUIB, 


juli  gavu  {'ntertuinmonts  to  Kuro|U'aii  gentlemen  of  cireuiiistaiu'e, 
whereat  I  do  not  tliiiik  any  single  variety  of  food  or  drink  pro- 
curable in  (.'aleutta  was  omitted  ;  but  ladies  did  not  i)articijmte, 
exeej)t,  of  eourse,  those  who  contributed  to  the  entertainment — 
the  ladies  of  the  iiautch,  or  those  of  a  stray  theatrical  coni})any 
whose  perfornumces  tlie  Hajah  fancied.  In  return  tlu.'  Rajah 
was  invited  to  evening  parties  at  (iovernment  House,  where 
he  upj)eare(l  in  a  turban  and  diamonds,  supremely  oiled  and 
scented,  stood  about  in  corners  with  his  hands  behind  his  back, 
and  never  for  an  instant  dreamed  in  his  disdainful  Hindu  soul 
of  eating  at  the  Viceroy's  supper-table.  At  the  end  of  tlie  cold 
weather  he  went  back  to  his  own  state,  where  he  sat  on  the  floor 
and  hatched  treason  against  the  British  with  both  nuijesty  and 
comfort.  In  the  evening  his  domain  was  dotted  with  the  cook- 
ing-fires of  his  peoi)le,  who  nuide  a  sort  of  tented  field  of  it.  The 
wind  blew  the  smoke  across  the  Brownes'  compound,  causing 
young  Browne  to  use  language  uncomplimentary  to  Rajahs,  and 
that  was  all  they  ever  had  to  do  with  this  one. 

I  mention  the  local  isolation  of  these  young  people  because  it 
is  typical  of  Calcutta,  where  nobody  by  any  chance  ever  leans 
over  anybody  else's  garden  gate.  Doubtless  this  has  its  advan- 
tages— they  are  probiibly  official — but  Helen,  not  being  official, 
found  it  cramping. 

There  was  always  the  garden,  though  ;  she  had  that  much  lib- 
erty. The  garden  had  begun  with  the  Brownes,  it  was  a  con- 
temporary success.  There  had  been  desolation,  but  you  have 
heard  how  they  engaged  a  mallie.  Desolation  fled  before  the 
mallie  by  daily  degrees,  though  he  was  seldom  seen  in  pursuit  of 
it.  When  gardeners  work  in  Christendom,  this  one  sought  re- 
pose and  the  balmy  hubble-bubble,  or  bathed  and  oiled  and  ate 
in  his  little  mud  house  under  the  pipal  tree.     It  was  very  early 


IB, 

inistiinco, 
rink  })!•()- 
irti('ij)iiU', 

.UlIllL'llt — 

;he  Kajali 
se,  where 
oiled  and 
Ids  back, 
indu  soul 
I  the  cold 
L  the  Uoor 
ajesty  and 
the  cook- 
)fit.  The 
il,  causing 
ajahs,  and 

because  it 
ver  leans 
ts  ad  van - 
g  official, 

much  lib- 
las  a  con- 
you  have 
kfore  the 
bursuit  of 
bught  re- 
and  ate 
Lery  early 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTi'RES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB.       165 

in  the  morning,  at  crow-caw  one  niiglit  say  in  poetic  reference  to 
the  dawn  in  India,  that  the  mallie  scratched  and  scraped  along 
tiie  garden  beds  with  his  wonderful  little  trowel,  and  spoke  to 
the  flowers  so  that  they  sprang  up  to  answer  him.  When  the 
shadow  of  the  house  fell  on  the  hibiscus  bushes  he  came  out 
again,  and  slaked  the  hot  beds  with  wati'r  from  the  tatik  in 
many  buckets.  Here  and  there  he  stoojied  ovim-  them  like  a 
glistening  brown  toad-stool,  but  Helen  never  knew  what  he  did 
or  his  reason  for  doing  it — that  was  hid  with  the  mallie-lok. 

As  to  the  garden,  there  was  not  a  tro])ical  seed  in  it,  they 
were  all  English  flowers,  which  made  the  mallie's  excellent  un- 
derstanding with  them  more  remarkable,  for  tliey  spoke  a  differ- 
ent language.  It  was  not  much  of  a  garden,  there  was  abso- 
lutely no  order  or  arrangement — it  would  liave  worried  me — but 
the  Brownes  planted  a  vast  amount  of  interest  and  affection  and 
expectation  in  it;  and  it  all  grew.  There  were  such  nasturtiums 
as  Helen  longed  to  show  her  mother,  there  were  jddoxes  white 
and  purple,  pansies  too,  and  pinks,  and  not  a  quiet  corner  but 
was  fragrant  with  mignonette.  A  row  of  sunflowers  tilted  tall 
against  the  side  of  the  house,  and  they  actually  had  corn-bottle^, 
and  balsams  and  daisies.  Violets  too — violets  in  exile,  violets  in 
pots,  with  the  peculiar  projierty  that  violets  sometimes  have  in 
India,  of  bringing  tears  to  the  eyes  if  one  bends  over  them. 

The  Brownes  began  by  counting  them — the  first  pansy-bud 
was  an  event,  and  I  have  heard  references  between  them  to  "  the 
dav  the  sunflower  came  out."  They  chronicled  dailv  at  break- 
fast:  "Two  nasturtiums  and  a  pink,"  "two  pinks,  three  nastur- 
tiums, and  the  monthly  rose,"  with  great  gratulation,  while  I  am 
convinced  neither  of  them  looked  twice  at  the  fine  bunch  I  sent 
round  occasionally  from  my  garden  while  their  garden  was  grow- 
ing.    It  grew  so  fast,  their  garden,  that  presently,  if  you  met 


\: 


1 66       THE    SIMPLE   ADl'EXTL'KES  OF  A    MEM  SAM  IB. 

them  in  society,  thoy  could  tulii  of  nothing  else.  It  was  new  to 
tlu'Mi,  tliis  friemliv  solace  of  the  flowers  of  home.  One  would 
liave  thought  it  specially  invented  for  tiieir  honeymoon,  whereas 
the  rest  of  us  demanded  it  every  cold  weather,  as  regularly  as  the 
punkah  on  the  fifteenth  of  March.  Mrs.  Hrowne  usi-d  to  go 
about  saying  what  a  woiulerful  amount  of  comfort  one  could  get 
out  of  a  verbena,  if  it  were  only  the  right  colour,  without  the 
slightest  sus[)icion  of  the  triteness  of  the  remark;  and  young 
Browne  would  show  you  his  home-grown  button-hole,  as  if  no 
other  man  in  the  place  possessed  one.  It  was  eminently  good 
for  them,  as  it  is  for  all  of  us.  To  some  of  us,  you  know,  Eng- 
land at  last  becomes  a  place  where  one  dies  daily  of  bronchitis, 
and  is  obliged  to  do  without  a  kitmutgar;  but  this  never  hap- 
pens if  every  cold  weather  one  i)lants  one's  self  round  about  with 
English  flowers.  They  preserve  the  remnant  of  grace  which  is 
left  in  the  Anglo-Iiulian  soul,  and  keep  it  homesick,  which  is  its 
one  chance  of  salvation.  Young  iJrowne  seldom  said  anything 
cynical  in  the  garden,  and  as  for  Helen,  it  was  simj)ly  C'anbury 
to  her.  She  could  always  go  down  and  talk  of  home  to  hor 
friends  in  the  flower-beds,  who  were  so  steadfastly  gay,  and  tell 
them,  as  she  often  did,  how  brave  and  true  it  was  of  them  to 
come  so  far  from  England,  forgetting,  perhaps,  that  from  a  cli- 
matic })oint  of  view  nasturtiums  like  heathendom.  And  in  the 
evening  the  smoke  of  the  hubble-bubble  was  lost  in  the  fragrance 
of  the  garden. 

Mrs.  Browne  says  that  if  I  am  writing  about  their  compound, 
I  ought  not  to  omit  to  mention  the  fowl-yard,  which  was  situ- 
ated at  one  end  of  it,  near  the  stable.  It  was  another  experiment 
in  economy — the  cook  used  such  a  quantity  of  eggs  that  the 
Brownes  saw  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  produced  on  the 
premises.     So  they  enclosed  a  fowl-yard  and  stocked  it,  and  the 


UB. 

as  new  to 
)iu!  would 
\,  wlu'ivas 
irlv  as  the 
sed   to  ^'o 
could  get 
ithout  the 
iiid  young 
L>,  as  if  no 
enlly  good 
now,  Kng- 
hronchitis, 
uever  hap- 
about  with 
!C  which  is 
khich  is  its 
1  anything 
y  ('anbury 
me   to  her 
y,  and  tell 
i)f  thein  to 
roni  a  cli- 
nd  in  the 
fragrance 


\ 


THE   SIMPLE   .-iJH'EXri'KES  OE  A    MEAfSA////i.       167 

cock  vied  with  the  crows  in  informing  them  of  the  earliest  hint 
of  dayligiit.  Hut  the  lirownes  do  not  now  advise  tiie  keeping  of 
fowls  on  the  grouiwl  of  economv;  thev  suv,  indeed,  that  onlv  the 
very  rich  can  alTord  to  keep  them.  It  seems  that  the  syce  kindly 
supplied  their  food  out  of  the  pony's  gram,  charging  the  di'licit  to 
the  mem:?iihib,  who  also  paid  liberally  for  barley,  a  visionary  jtro- 
vision  at  which  her  birds  had  never  a  pick.  They  were,  notwiih- 
standiug,  sound  healthy  hens,  and  the  marvel  was  that  they  did 
not  lay — except  an  i}^^^  or  two  a  week  for  pure  ostentation.  Kali 
Hagh  was  doing  a  good  business  with  the  rest,  supplying  them  to 
Mrs.  Browne  at  full  market  rates,  and  to  Mrs.  (ireen  Pink  Sleeves 
at  about  half,  to  secure  her  custom.  'I'he  hens  in  the  meantime 
clucked  cheerfully,  and  Helen  was  in  a  parlous  state  when  in  the 
end  thev  had  to  be  cut  off  untimelv  and  stewed.  "  Hut  with  ruin 
staring  us  in  the  face,"  slie  said,  "  what  else  could  we  do  I'' 

This  will  serve  as  an  explainition  to  posterity,  if  any  should 
inquire  why  it  was  that  toward  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century 
in  Hengal  only  Members  of  Council  were  in  the  habit  of  kee|)ing 
hens. 


'ompound, 
was  situ- 
[xperiment 
that  the 
led  on  the 
It,  and  the 


1 68       THE   SIMPLE   ADVENT  UUES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


CHAPTER    \\\ 

4^ HE  cold  weatlier  is  not  a  season  of  unquali- 
fied delight  in  Calcutta,  in  spite  o-f  the 
glorious  cor  ling  of  the  Raj  into  his 
winter  palace,  and  the  consequent 
nautch.  The  cold  weather  has  its 
trifling  drawbacks.  The  mosquitoes 
and  the  globe-trotters  are  so  bad 
thcD,  that  rome  people  have  been 
known  to  ;»refer  the  coni])arative 
seclusion  they  onjoy  when  the  thermometer  stands  at  103°  in 
the  shade,  when  the  mosquitoes  liave  gone  to  the  Hills,  pursuing 
the  fat  of  the  land,  and  the  globe-trotters  to  northern  latitudes 
seeking  publishers. 

It  may  be  set  down  as  an  axiom  that  the  genus  globe-trotter 
is  unloved  in  Calcutta.  It  nuiy  also  be  set  down  as  an  axiom 
that  it  is  his  own  fault,  for  reasons  that  »uiy  appear.  \\\\i  there 
ar?  globe-trotters  aiul  globe-trotters,  anu  of  some  the  offence  is 
venial — nothing  more,  perhaps,  than  that  they  nuike  the  hotels 
uncomfortable,  and  i)ut  up  the  price  of  native  curiosities.  And 
some  are  amusing  in  their  way,  and  some  bring  English  con- 
versation with  them  ;  and  I  have  known  one  to  be  grateful  for 
such  poor  favoi;rs  as  he  received,  but  he  was  not  a  globe-trotter 
that  took  himself  seriously.  It  is  also  possible,  \  believe,  if  one 
lives  Ml  India  long  enough,  to  con.o  across  a  globe-trotter  who  is 


IB. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES  OF  A    MEMSAI/IIi. 


169 


)f  unquali- 
ite  of  the 
11  j  into  liis 
'-onscquent 
ler  has  its 
mosquitoes 
re  so  bad 
have  been 
oni])urative 
at  10;i°  in 
<,  pursuing 
]  latitudes 

obe-trotter 
an  axiom 
Hut  there 
olTenee  is 
the  liotels 
ies.  And 
ijiish  con- 
atcful  for 
be-trotter 
|ove,  if  one 
ter  who  is 


i 


modest  and  teachable,  but  we  liave  been  out  here  oidy  twenty- 
two  years,  and  I  am  goin;;  home  without  having  seen  one. 

The  Parliamentary  globe-trotter  represents  the  spei'it-s  .'  -h 
has  impressed  itself  most  upon  Anglo-India.  He  has  given  11 
character  ami  a  linish,  as  it  were,  to  the  whole  gi'uus.  He  lias 
made  himself  so  prevalent  and  of  such  repute  that,  nuvting  any 
stalwart  stranger  of  cheerful  aggressive  countenance  al  His  Kx- 
eelleney's  board,  we  are  apt  to  iiujuire  amongst  ourvSelves,  ''of 
what  district  ?"  hoi)ing  for  reasons  private  t(»  .\nglo-lndia,  that 
it  may  not  be  a  Radical  one.  The  initials  "  M.  P."  l.ave  become 
cabalistic  signs.  They  lill  us  with  the  memory  of  past  re- 
proaches, and  the  certainty  of  coming  ones.  They  stand  for 
much  improper  language,  not  entirely  used  in  India.  Tiiey 
inspire  a  terrible  form  of  fear,  the  a|)prehension  of  the  unknown, 
for  the  potentials  of  the  globe-trotting  M.  I*,  are  only  revealed 
in  caucus,  the  simple  Anglo-Indian  cannot  forecast  tliem. 
Regularly  with  December  he  arrives,  yearly  more  vigorous,  moro 
in(iuisitive,  more  corpulent,  more  disposed  to  niake  a  note  of  it. 
We  have  also  m)ticed  an  aninud  increase  in  his  ])olitical  imj)or- 
tance,  his  loquacity,  aiul  his  capacity  to  be  taken  in,  which  lie 
would  consider  better  descrribed  as  ability  to  form  an  independ- 
ent opinion.  At  this  moment  we  are  looking  forward  to  the 
last  straw  in  the  sha})e  of  Lord  Iiandolph  Churchill. 

Mr.  Jonas  Hatcham,  M,  P.,  was  not  so  great  a  man  as  Lord 
Randolph  C'luM-chill  when  he  arrived  in  Calcutta  last  cold 
weather;  what  he  may  have  become  sin^^e,  by  the  diligent  use  of 
his  Indian  experiences  ami  information  collected  "on  the  sp(»t," 
I  have  no  means  of  knowing.  (Jeorge  Hrowne's  father  was  one 
of  Mr.  Hatcham's  constituents,  and  this  made  Mr.  Hatcham  will- 
ing to  stay  with  the  Hrownes  wlnle  he  was  inspecting  Calcutta, 
and  collecting  ao  ice  to  offer  to  the  V^iceroy.     He  kindly  put  up 


170 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


1 1   >! 


h    i 


with  thoiii  for  sevcnil  weoks,  juul  wlii'ii  he  went  away  he  gave 
four  annas  to  tlio  swocpor. 

Mr.  Hiit(!hani  occasionally  (K'scrilu'tl  liinisclf  as  one  of  the 
largest  manufacturers  in  tl^e  nortli  of  Knghmd,  and  tli(»ugh  the 
description  h-aves  something  to  hi;  (k-sircd,  it  does  suggest  Mr. 
Hatcliam.  He  was  hirge,  imposing  in  front,  massive  in  tlie  rear. 
He  was  gray-wliiskered,  of  a  ruhicund  countenance,  of  a  douhle 
ciiin.  He  wore  a  soft  felt  hat  a  little  on  one  side,  and  his  hands 
in  liis  })ockets,  a  habit  which  always  strikes  me  as  characteristic 
of  a  real  manufacturer.  \\<\  was  very  well  informed — they  all 
are.  He  had  a  suj»vc  yet  olT-hand  manner,  a  business-like  smile, 
a  sonorous  bass  voice,  and  a  dee]),  raging  and  unquenchable 
thirst  for  Tacts. 

Mr.  liatciiam  was  very  much  aware  of  his  value  to  the 
Hrownes  as  a  !U'W  arrival  from  Kngland — a  delicate  apprecia- 
tion of  hinis»'lf,  which  is  never  wanting  to  a  globe-trotter.  Mr. 
liatcham  blandly  mixed  himself  up  with  the  days  when  ])eople 
came  round  the  (.*ape  in  a  sailing-ship,  or  across  the  sands  of 
Suez  on  a  camel,  and  invested  himself  with  all  the  sentimental 
interest  that  might  attach  to  a  fellow-countrvman  discovered  in 
the  interior  of  Bechuanaland.  A  generous  philanthrojiic  in- 
stinct rose  up  and  surged  within  him  as  lie  thought,  in  the  midst 
of  iiis  joyful  impressions  of  the  tropics,  how  much  pleasure  his 
mere  presence  was  probably  im)>arting.  He  almost  felt  at  mo- 
ments as  if  he  had  undertaken  this  long,  arduous,  aiul  expensive 
iournev  \\\  the  interest  of  the  Hrownes  as  well  as  those  of  his 
constituents. 

The  great  concourse  of  hi.J  kind  in  the  hotels,  the  telegrr.ms 
in  the  morning's  Kiujlishman^  the  preseiu'c  of  overland  cheese, 
the  electric  light,  and  the  modern  bacteriologist,  should  have  re- 
buked tills  })rctensi()n  somewhat,  but  it  is  doubtful  if  anything 


UB. 


lie  gave 


le  of  Die 
liouj^li  tlie 
i;i<fe.st  Mr. 
I  the  rear, 
if  a  double 
his  hands' 
iracteristio 
—they  all 
like  smile, 
pieiichable 

[lie    to    the 
3  apprecia- 
Dtter.     M  r. 
hen  ])eople 
ic  sands  of 
;entiniental 
seovered  in 
hropie    in- 
1  tlie  midst 
)leasure  his 
I'lt  at  mo- 
ll expensive 
lose  of  his 

I'  tclegnmis 
md  cheese, 
lid  have  ro- 
f  iinvthing 


\ 


\ 


\ 


4 


THE   SIMPLE  ^\D  VEX  TV  RES   OF  A    MEMSAIIlli, 


i;i 


could  do  that.  "  I  saw  both  your  parents  before  I  sailed,"  said 
Mr.  iiateham,  in  liberal  eonij)ensation,  as  it  were,  for  lis  lirst 
dinner,  "and  left  them  quite  well."  And  wlu'ii  young  Urowne 
rei)lied  that  sinee  then  he  was  sorrv  to  sav  his  mother  had  had 
a  bad  attaek  of  bronchitis,  however,  by  the  last  mail  tlu-y  had 
heard  she  was  getting  over  it,  the  damper  was  only  momentary, 
and  Mr.  Hatcham  proceeded  to  inform  them  that  I'arnell  was 
(lead. 

Oh,  he  was  suflieiently  eommiinieative,  that  Hateham,  sulVi- 
ciently  willing  to  impart  his  impressions,  as  expansive,  by  the 
time  they  got  to  the  joint,  as  ever  you  liked.  He  had  a  cer- 
tain humorous  ])erception  of  what  was  ex})ected  of  him.  As  a 
"globe-trotter,"  he  was  familiar  with  the  expression,  and  aj)plied 
it  to  himself  jovially  without  shame.  'I'he  ])ereeption  was  in- 
c()m})lete,  and  therefore  did  not  make  Mr.  Hateham  uncomfort- 
able. However,  he  understood  })erfectly  that  globe-trotters  as  a 
class  were  fre(|iiently  and  jirodigiously  taken  in.  Acting  upon 
this,  Mr.  Hateham  made  his  increilulity  the  strong  ])oint  of  bis 
intelliijence,  and  received  certain  kinds  of  information  with  an 
almost  obvious  wink.  That  very  first  night  at  dinner,  he  pro- 
claimed himself  to  the  IJrownes  a  ]»erson  who  could  not  be  im- 
posed u})on — useless  to  try.  "Coming  down  from  Benares," 
said  Mr.  Hateham,  "I  travelled  with  a  cou])le  of  men  wlio  said 
they  were  indigo  ])lanters,  and  so  they  may  have  been  for  all  I 
know.  Anyhow  they  spotted  me  to  be  a  globe-trotter — said  they 
knew  it  by  the  kind  of  hat  I  wore — and  then  they  proceeded  to 
fill  me  up  about  the  country.  One  fellow  saiil  he  didn't  own  a 
yard  of  indigo  land  himself;  always  got  the  peasants  to  grow  it 
for  him;  and  the  other  went  into  some  com]ilicate(l  explanation 
of  how  blue  indigo  was  got  by  squeezing  green  leaves.  All  sorts 
of  yarns  they  told  me.     How  the  natives  wouldn't  eat  factory 


\J2        I'm--    SI  Ml' 1. 1:    ADlEXrCRES   Ol-    A    MEMSAIIIH. 


I 


siij^ur,  bcciiiisc  tlu'V  believed  it  defiled  in  tlie  prepanitioii,  hut 
preferred  drain  water  to  any  other.  I  low  a  Hill  woman  would 
make  nothin<,^  of  earrving  me  on  her  hack  a  thousand  feet  steady 
(!limhill;^^  ilctw  in  the  part  of  the  eountry  we  were  fr<>ing 
through,  it  was  so  hot  in  .June  that  men  had  servants  to  drench 
them  with  water  in  the  middle  of  the  night  regularly.  I  saw 
they  were  enjoying  it,  so  I  let  them  go  on — in  fact  1  rather  drew 
them  out,  es[)ecially  about  indigo.  Took  it  all  in  and  cried  for 
more,  as  the  babies  do  for  patent  nu'dicine.  Then  when  we  got 
out  at  the  station  here  I  said,  'Thank  you  gentlemen,  for  all  the 
"information"  you  have  given  nu'.  It  has  been  very  entertain- 
ing. Of  course  you  will  understand,  however,  that  I  don't  be- 
lieve a  word  of  it.  (lood  nuirning!'  I  fancy  those  two  indigo 
planters  will  hesitate  before  they  tackle  their  lU'xt  gloi)e-trotter. 
I  never  saw  men  look  more  astonished  in  my  life." 

"  1  should  think  so!"  exclaimed  young  Browiu';  "  what  they 
told  you  was  wholly  aiul  literally  true." 

Mr.  iFonas  Batcham  looked  at  his  host  with  a  humorous 
twinkle.     "  Don't  ijon  try  it  on,"  said  he. 

Although  Mr.  Hatcham  found  it  advisable  to  shed  so  much 
of  the  light  of  his  counteiuiiuu)  upon  the  Hrownes,  as  I  have  said, 
it  was  native  India  that  ho  eamo  to  see  and  report  upon.  Ai\d 
to  this  end  he  had  read  one  or  two  of  the  most  recent  publica- 
tions on  the  subject,  works  produced,  that  is  to  say,  by  our  very 
most  recent  visitors,  smoking  from  the  London  press  before  their 
authors'  names  were  dry  in  the  Bombay  hotel  register.  These 
volumes  had  given  Mr.  Batcham  comprehensive  ideas  of  native 
India,  and  he  knew  that  between  Cape  Comorin  and  Pesliawur 
wore  lying  two  hundred  and  fifty  million  people  urgently  in  need 
of  his  benevolent  interference.  They  were  of  different  races, 
religions,  customs,  and  languages — Mr.  Batcham  had  expected  to 


II  Hi. 

ration,  hut 
\\\\w\  would 

feet  steady 
tvcrc  ^'oing 
s  to  divnch 
rly.  I  saw 
•atlicr  drew 
id  cried  for 
lu'U  wo  ^ot 

for  all  tlie 
^  entcrtaiii- 
I  don't  be- 
two  indi<!;o 
obo- trotter. 

'  wiiat  they 

humorous 

d  so  much 

have  said, 

)on.     Ai\d 

it  publica- 

•y  our  very 

efore  (lieir 

cr.     These 

!  of  native 

Pesliawur 

ly  in  need 

ent  races, 

X pec ted  to 


\ 


Till:    SIMI'l.li  .ll)l-i:xrfKl:S  (>/•■  .1    MKMS.IIIIII. 


■73 


I 


find  that  and  had  efiuijiped  himself  for  ii.  by  h-arninLr  the  names 
of  almost  all  of  them.  He  was  acfjuainled  with  .several  of  their 
^'od.s,  he  knew  tiiat  (Janesh  had  an  ele})hant\s  head,  that  Kali 
loved  the  blood  of  goats,  and  that  Krishna  was  the  .source  of  all 
things.  He  was  aware  also  that  it  was  not  proper  to  speak  of 
Mohammedan  rajahs  or  Hindoo  sheiks,  and  he  had  ijiformed 
him.self  upon  the  subject  of  Eastern  polygamy.  .Mr.  Hatcham 
was  a  person  of  intelligen«'e  who  did  not  travel  without  prepar- 
ing his  mind,  and  though  according  to  his  own  modest  statenu-nt 
there  was  still  a  great  deal  that  he  didn't  know  about  India,  it 
was  open  to  an  appreciative  })erson  to  doubt  this.  In  one  direc- 
tion Mr.  Batcham  had  preparc(l  his  mind  with  particular  care, 
so  that  the  very  slightest  impression  could  not  fail  to  be  deep 
and  pernuinent — in  the  direction  of  the  wrongs,  the  sulTerings, 
the  grie\ances  under  liritish  rule,  of  his  two  hundred  and  fifty 
million  fellow  subjects  in  India.  Upon  this  point  Mr.  Batcham 
was  tender  niid  susco])tible  to  a  degree  that  contrasted  sitigular- 
Iv  with  his  attitude  towards  the  rest  of  the  world,  which  had 
never  found  reason  to  consider  him  a  philanthropist.  This 
solicitude  about  his  Indian  brethren  was  the  more  touching  ))er- 
haps  on  that  account,  ami  the  more  remarkabh?  because  it  found 
only  cause  for  grief  and  remorse  in  the  condition  of  native  In- 
dia. .\ny  trilling  benelits  that  have  accrue<l  to  the  peoj)le 
through  British  administration — one  tbiid<s  of  public  works, 
sanitation,  education,  courts  of  justice,  and  so  forth — Mr.  Batch- 
am  either  depreciatcil  or  ignored.  \\\\  had  doiu'  so  little,  so 
"terribly  little,"  as  Mr.  Batcham  put  It,  compared  with  what  we 
night  have  done,  and  of  that  little  so  much  had  been  done  bad- 
ly!  Daily  .Mr.  Batcham  discovend  more  things  that  had  been 
neglected,  and  more  things  that  had  been  done  badly.  He  looked 
for  them  carefully,  and  whenever  he  found  one  he  wept  audibly 


174 


THE   SlMPUi  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAUlIi. 


uiul  niiido  ii  note  of  it.  Tinu'  would  fail  me,  as  tlic  proaciuT 
says,  to  recount  ail  the  ini(juitio.s  that  (.'aine  under  Mr.  Hatcliatn's 
observation  during  the  weeks  ho  spent  in  India,  and  I  am  un- 
worthy to  describe  the  ener«ry  and  self-for<^etfuliu'ss  with  wliicli 
he  threw  himself  into  the  task  of  "  investif^ating"  them,  always 
with  the  most  copious  notes.  'I'here  was  the  fact  that  both  opium 
and  country  spirit  were  sold  to  the  innocent  Hindu,  not  only 
with  (Jovernment  cognisance  but  actually  undc-v  (loveriunent 
regulations,  the  outrage  to  every  Hriton\s  conscience  being  that 
revenues  were  derived  therefrom.  The  (iovernment  fattened,  in 
Mr.  Hatcham's  graphic  figure,  upon  the  physical  misery  and 
moral  degradation  of  its  helpless  wards.  Mr.  liatcham  searched 
his  miiul  in  vain  to  find  a  parallel  to  this,  strange  as  it  may  seem 
in  connection  with  his  accurate  acfpiaintaiu'c  with  the  amount  of 
excise  paid  by  his  brother  j)hilanthroi)ists  in  liritish  beer,  'i'hc 
position  of  the  (iovernment  of  Iiulia  was  monstrously  uni(nu>.  If 
Mr.  Matcham  were  the  (fovernment  of  India,  he  would  scorn  to 
fill  the  treasury  with  the  returns  of  vice.  Mr.  Hatcham  would 
tax  nothing  but  virtue  and  the  pay  of  (Jovernment  servants. 
And  though  Mr.  Hatcham  was  not  the  (JovernnuMit  of  India,  was 
he  not  entitled  from  his  seat  in  the  Hritish  House  of  ('omnu)ns 
and  the  de})th  of  his  righteous  indigiuition,  to  call  the  (Jovern- 
ment of  India  to  account?  For  what  else  then  did  .loiuis  Hatch- 
am,  M.  P.,  one  of  the  largest  manufacturers  in  the  north  of 
Kngland,  with  little  time  to  spare,  undertakf  this  arduous  and 
expensive  journey  to  the  Kast  ?  Oh,  there  were  nuuiy  tilings 
that  grieved  hitn,  Mr.  Hatcham,  many  things  to  which  he  felt 
compelled  to  take  exception,  of  which  he  felt  comjxdhMl  to  make 
a  note.  He  was  grieved  at  the  attitude  of  the  (Jovernment 
towards  the  native  press  in  the  matter  of  seditious  and  disloyal 
editorials,  scattered  bv  thousaiuls  under  shelter  of  the  vernacular 


Hi. 


THE   SIMri.E   Al)\'i:\  I'LKES  OE  A    MEMSAIlin.       1-5 


pivaclicr 
Ijitcluun'a 
[  am  un- 
til which 
n,  always 
th  opium 
not  only 
tor!im(.'nt 
I'in^  that 
teneil,  in 
sery  and 
searclu'd 
nay  st'om 
mount  of 
or.     'J'hc 
lifjuo.    If 
scorn  to 
m  would 
soryants. 
dia,  was 
tnunouH 
Joytrn- 
Hatch- 
lorth  of 
ous  and 
thiu<j:s 
\\v  felt 
Lo  mako 
riuni'ut 
lisloyal 
narular 


'*•?<  - 


>IK.    .lONAS    HATi  MAM,    M.  I*. 


amon»::st  an  i.!^MU)raiit  and  fan-itic  popuialion.  Mr.  hatchaju  did 
not  wish  to  see  this  practice  discouniijcd.  'Ww  lihtrty  of  the 
press  Mr.  iiatcham  considered  the  foundation  stone  of  the  lihcrty 


176       >'///;    SIMPLE  Ain'ENTl'KES  OF  A    MEMSAUIIi. 

of  tli(!  siilijcct — let  tho  people;  raise  their  voice.  (Jrieved  also 
was  Mr.  Hatcliain  at  the  cold  shoulder  turned  hy  (ioverurjient 
to  the  Indian  ('on;;ress — that  nohle  einhodinient  of  the  strn;j^;;les 
and  aspirations  of  a  suhject  people.  Mr.  Bateharn  thon<,dit  that 
all  native  movements,  movements  that  marked  progress  and 
emaneii)ation,  should  he  warndy  encouraged.  The  suspicion  of 
intrigue  was  an  ahsiird  oiu',  and  this  was  not  merely  a  matter  of 
opiiuon  with  Mr.  liateham.  lie  had  it  from  a  native  gentleman 
prondnently  connected  with  the  Congress.  Mi-.  Batcham  hatl 
hrought  a  letter  of  introduction  to  the  native  gentleman — .Mr. 
Dt'hendra  Lai  iianerjee — aiul  Mr.  I)el)en«lra  Lai  Manerjee  had 
given  him  surh  an  "inside"  view  of  the  methods  and  aims  of 
the  Congress  as  gratified  Mr.  Hatcham  exceedingly.  .Mr.  Hateh- 
am  found  .M  r.  Dehendra  Lai  iianerjee  the  soul  of  hospitality, 
very  a|)i)reciative  of  .Mr.  Matcham's  illustrious  position,  anxious 
to  gratify  .Mr.  Hateham's  intelligent  curiosity  hy  every  means  in 
liis  power,  and  hrimming  over  with  loyalty  and  enthusiasm  for 
the  institutions  which  .Mr.  Hatcham  representeil.  And  when 
Mr.  i)cl)endra  Lai  Hanerjee  declared,  in  a<lnnrai»ly  lluent  Kng- 
lish,  that  the  Congress  was  ins|)ired  hy  the  single  thought  of 
aiding  and  upholding,  so  far  as  lay  in  its  humhle  j)ower,  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  British  (iovernment — to  which  every  memher 
felt  himself  pers(»nallv  and  incalculahlv  indehte(l  —  Mr.  Batcham 
rejoined  audihly,  hegged  Mr.  Dehendra  Lai  iiatu-rjee  to  helieve 
that  he  was  proud  to  he  his  fellow-suhject,  friend,  hrother,  and 
made  a  copious  note  of  it. 

Naturally,  under  these  circumstances,  Mr.  Batcham  woidd 
find  a  very  severe  grief  in  the  relations  existing  hetween  Kuro- 
pean  and  native  society  here,  and  naturally  he  c«ad<l  not  find 
words  to  express  his  indignation  at  tho  insoh'iit  and  indilTerent 
front  of  his  fellow  countrymen   towards  the   people    of   India. 


n. 

vcd  also 
•niiiK'nt 

,dit  tliiit 

ess   and 

icioii  of 

latter  of 

iitlciiiaii 

am  had 

im — Mr. 

'j('(.'  had 

aims  of 

.  Uat.li- 

i|>itality, 

anxious 

leans  in 

asm   for 

when 

t  Kni,'- 

i^^dii  of 

tlie  ad- 

lemher 

iteliam 

l)eliev(» 

er,  and 

won  hi 
Kn  ro- 
ot find 
ilTerent 
India. 


1 


THE    SIMPIJ:    ADVEXTVKES  OF  A    MEM  SAIN  H.       lyj 

"  All,"  said  Mr.  liateharn,  "on  aceonnt  of  a  hrown  skin  I  "  llo 
could  not  understand  it — no,  he  could  uot  undi-rstand  it  I  Hut 
if  Mr,  Batehani  could  not  understand  it,  he  could  ih>  what  lay 
in  his  ])ower  as  u  person  of  generous  sympathies  an<i  iii«,di  moral 
tone  to  alleviate  it,  and  he  threw  himself  into  tlie  task.  Mr. 
Dehendra  Lai  Hancrjee  gave  him  no  invitation  which  he  <lid  not 
aecejtt,  offered  him  no  opportunity  which  he  did  not  profit  hy. 
He  drove  with  Mr.  Di'ix'ndra  Lai  lianerjec,  he  accomj)anied  him 
to  the  races,  to  the  native  theatre,  to  the  English  theatre,  to 
the  Kalighat,  to  the  liotani<'al  (Jardens,  to  various  interesting  reli- 
gious and  family  festivals  among  Mr.  Dehendra  Lai  lianerjee's 
immediate  social  circle;  also,  on  occasions  upon  which  the 
Mrownes  made  immoderate  thanksgiving,  he  dined  with  tiiis 
Indian  gentleman  and  his  emancipated  wife,  who  was  allowed  to 
appear  iti  puhlic,  where  she  smiled  a  great  deal  and  said  nothing 
whatever.  .Mrs.  Dehendra  Lai  lianerjee  had  not  heen  very  long 
eniancij)ate(l,  however,  ami  it  was  in  complimenting  his  Indian 
friend  u})on  having  so  charming  a  lady  to  he  his  companion  and 
helpmeet,  as  Mr.  liatcham  put  it,  that  lie  ohserved  the  first  and 
only  slight  chill — it  is  impossihlo  for  Indian  gentlemen  to  freeze 
— in  Mr.  Dehendra  Lai  Banerjee's  responses.  If  Mr.  Hatcham 
could  have  known  how  Mrs.  Dehendra  Lai  Bancrjee  was  pinched 
f<tr  that  comj)limcnt ! 

I  suppose  that  the  entertainment  and  ediicat'on  of  .Mr.  Jonas 
Hatcham,  M.  P.,  could  hardly  have  cost  Mr.  Dehendra  Lai  Han- 
erjee  less  than  four  or  five  hundred  rupees  when  he  added  it  up, 
hut  if  lie  had  the  least  desire  to  see  disafTection  and  sedition 
properly  encouraged  among  his  countrymen,  or  took  the  smallest 
satisfaction  in  the  aggravated  annoyance  and  emharrassnient  of 
the  Government  of  India  by  Iler  Majesty's  most  loyal  Opposi- 
tion, he  must  have  felt  that  he  had  done  much  to  further  these 


1^8       THE   SI  MI' I. E   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAllUl. 

thin;;s,  uiul  consicU'red  the  money  well  iiivestod.  Mr.  .lo'iiis 
Bjitelijun,  the  ineredulous,  certainly  left  his  hands  so  brimful  (tf 
native  hypothecations  that  it  would  have  been  impossible  to 
lodjife  another  lie  in  him  anywhere.  Urbane,  impressively  self- 
satislied,  and  well  oiled  for  work,  Mr.  Jonas  Hatcham,  M.  1'., 
being  towed  homeward  down  the  river  llooghly,  was  a  sight 
whieh  must  have  brought  tears  of  ])ious  thanksgiving  to  the  eyes 
of  his  amiable  native  friend  ui)on  the  wharf.  Nor  was  Mr.  I)e- 
bendra  Lai  Banerjee  without  his  private  reward.  Mr.  Batcham, 
in  departing,  clasped  him  figuratively  to  his  capa(;ious  bosom, 
and  told  him  movingly  that  if  ever  he  came  to  England  the 
Batchams  would  hasten  collectively  to  do  likewise.  Mr.  Bat- 
cham's  wife  and  family  and  friends  would  await  that  event  with 
an  impatience  which  Mr.  Banerjee  must  make  as  brief  as  j)os- 
sible.  Nothing  would  give  ]\Ir.  Batcham  greater  pleasure  than 
to  receive  Mr.  Banerjee  in  his  liome  and  show  liim  over  his 
"works,"  or  perhaps — jocularly — to  take  liim  to  a  sitting  of  the 
House  to  hear  his  humble  servant  badger  the  Secretary  of  State. 
And  Mr.  lianerjee  responded  suitably  that  simply  to  hear  the 
eloquent  addresses  of  his  honourable  friend  wouhl  be  anijjly 
sutlicient  to  induce  him  to  nndertako  the  journey,  and  that  to 
witness  the  domestic  happiness  of  this  lionourable  friend  would 
bo  only  too  mnch  joy — he  was  unworthy.  And  they  ])arted  in 
mutual  dolours.  I  anticipate,  however,  Mr.  Batcham  is  not 
gone  yet. 


fill    of 

l)le    to 
y  sc'lf- 
M.  I'., 
I  Higlit 
10  eyes 
Ir.  1)0- 
tcliJiiu, 
bosom, 
11(1  the 
r.  Uat- 
it  with 
U8  pos- 
•e  than 
ver  his 

r  r>f  tho 

State. 
ir  the 
amply 
lat  to 
would 
ted  in 
is   not 


I 


i 


yy/A    SIMPLE   AI)VL.\1LHI:S   Ol-    A    M l-.M SAll t li. 


\;<j 


CIIAITKU   \VI. 

I  HAVE  not  yet  mentioned  the  one  matter  of  all  the  inri-u-vou^ 
matters  that  eame  under  his  observation  in  India,  about 
whieh  Mr.  Hatcham  was  j)arti(nilarly  <(rieved.  So  bitterly,  so 
loudly,  and  so  i)er.sisteiitly  did  he  ^'rieve  about  this,  that  one 
might  almost  have  thought  ho  eamo  out  for  the  ])iirpose,  absurd 
as  it  may  seem.  I  cannot  do  better  than  describe  it  in  Mr. 
Hatcham's  own  terms  as  "the  grinding  of  the  faces  of  the  poor, 
through  our  culpable  neglect  in  failing  to  provide  India  with  the 
humane  limitations  of  a  Factories  Act."  For  years  past  Knglish 
labour  had  been  thus  happily  conditioned,  and  who  could  meas- 
ure the  benefit  to  the  toiling  millions  on  whose  behalf  the  law 
had  been  made!  It  was  incalculable.  As  a  matter  of  fact  the 
only  result  of  its  o}>eration,  which  could  be  com[)uted  with  accu- 
racy, was  to  be  found  in  the  out-turn  of  the  mills.  There  Mr. 
Batcham  knew  to  a  yard  how  valuable  tlu^  Factories  Act  was  to 
the  operatives;  but  this  was  not  a  view  of  the  (piestion  upon 
which  he  dwelt  much  in  India.  While  he  was  with  us  indeed 
all  iiractical  considerations  were  swallowed  up,  for  Mr.  Hatcham, 
in  the  contemplation  of  the  profundity  of  our  ini(|uity  in  allow- 
ing the  factories  of  this  country  pretty  miicii  to  manage  tlu'ir 
own  alTairs.  He  did  not  oven  permit  himself  to  consider  that 
the  enormous  product  of  Indian  looms,  together  with  the  cheap- 
ness of  the  cost  of  })roduction,  was  having  a  prejudicial  ofTect 
upon  the  market.      lie  certainly  never  mentioned  it.     His  busi- 


I 


l8o       THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OF  A  MEM  SAHIB. 

iiess  Wiis  with  the  poor,  tlie  down-trodden,  tlic  victims  of  the 
rapacity  of  tlie  ca])italist,  as  mucli  among  lier  ^lajesty's  subjects 
on  India's  coral  strand  as  in  the  crowded  tenements  of  !Man- 
cliester  or  Birmingliam.  Ilis  duty  towards  these  unfortunates 
was  phiin,  and  heaven  forbid  tluit  he  shouhl  think  of  anything 
but  Ins  duty ! 

And  so  Mr.  l?at(3ham  himented  higli  and  low  over  the  woes 
of  the  unprotected  factory  "hand"  in  India.  He  began  his 
lament  as  soon  as  ever  he  was  informed — though  he  knew  it 
before — that  protection  did  not  exist ;  on  the  face  of  it,  oppres- 
sion must  then  be  rampant,  lie  himself  was  in  the  trade,  lie 
knew  the  temptations  of  the  capitalist,  and  he  would  not  go  so 
far  as  to  say  that,  if  a  wise  and  just  law  did  not  i)revent  him,  the 
exigencies  of  the  market  would  never  lead  him  to  be — inconsid- 
erate—toward his  emjiloyes.  Reflect  then  upon  the  result  of  al- 
most unlimited  power  in  the  hands  of  the  Indian  manufacturer! 

This  being  Mr.  Batcham's  pronounced  opinion,  even  before 
he  gave  his  personal  attention  to  the  subject  of  Indian  manufac- 
tures, his  investigations  naturally  had  the  effect  of  heightening 
it — one  might  say  tliey  were  undertaken  with  that  object.  They 
did  not  heighten  it,  however,  as  satisfactorily  or  as  definitely  as 
Mr.  Batcham  could  have  wished.  After  inspecting  a  cotton 
factory  in  Bombay,  a  woollen  factory  in  Cawnp  jre,  a  jute  factory 
in  Calcutta,  he  found  that  the  notes  left  too  nnich  to  the  imagi- 
nation ;  and  it  would  be  useless  to  appeal  to  tlie  imagination  of 
the  House ;  the  House  was  utterly  devoid  of  it.  True,  he  had 
seen  hundreds  of  operatives  working  in  miserable  nakedness 
under  the  unpitying  eye  of  a  Eurasian  overseer;  but  then  it  was 
certainly  very  warm,  and  the  overseer  had  not  been  sufficiently 
considerate  to  kick  any  of  them  in  Mr.  Batcham's  presence. 
They  certainly  began  early  and  worked  late,  but  then  they  .-.io 


(IB. 

US  of  the 
s  subjects 
J  of  Man- 
tortu  nates 
anvtliiiiif 

r  the  woes 
betjan  his 
3  knew  it 
it,  oppres- 
trade,  lie 
not  go  so 
t  him, the 
-inconsid- 
!sult  of  al- 
ufacturer ! 
en  before 
nianufac- 
ijrliteniiig 
let.     They 
initely  as 
a   cotton 
e  factory 
le  imagi- 
nation of 
e,  lie  liad 
akedness 
en  it  was 
.fficiently 
presence, 
thev  -•'.lo 


THE    SIMPLE   ADl'EXrURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB.       igi 

and  slumbered  in  the  middle  of  the  day,  chewing  betel  for  casual 
delectation  the  rest  of  the  time.  Something  might  possibly  be 
done  witii  that  if  he  were  careful  to  avoid  dwelling  upon  the 
siesta,  and  he  would  l)e  sorry  to  lay  stress  upon  any  trilling 
amelioration  in  the  coTulition  of  these  poor  wretches.  Mr. 
Batcham  pondered  long  upon  the  betel-nut,  but  saw  no  salvation 
there.  If  it  could  be  proved  that  these  miserable  beings  were 
compelled  to  resort  to  an  injurious  stimulant  to  keep  their  flag- 
ging energies  up  to  the  incredible  amount  of  labour  required  of 
them — and  Mr.  Batcham  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  this  was 
the  case — it  might  be  useful  to  cite  the  betel-nut,  but  there 
seemed  to  be  a  difficulty  about  proving  it.  The  only  tangible 
deplorable  fact  that  Mr.  Batcham  had  to  go  u])on,  was  that  the 
pay  of  a  full-grown  operative,  not  a  woman  or  a  child,  but  a  man, 
was  represented  by  the  shockingly  incredible  sum  of  eight  annas — 
eightpcnce! — a  dav  !  When  he  heard  this  ^\\\  Batcham  thought 
of  the  colossal  wages  paid  to  factory  hands  in  England  aiul 
shuddered,  lie  was  so  completely  occupied  in  shuddering  over 
this  instance  of  the  rapacity  of  the  Indian  manufacturer,  that  the 
statement  of  what  it  cost  the  same  operative  to  live  according 
to  the  immemorial  custom  of  his  people — about  five  shillings  a 
month — entirely  escaped  his  observation.  \\\  the  stress  of  his 
emotion  ^Ir.  Batcham  failed  to  notice  one  or  two  other  facts  that 
would  have  tended  to  alleviate  it,  the  fact  that  a  factory  operative 
is  paid  twice  as  much  as  a  domestic  servjint  and  three  times  as 
much  as  a  cooly,  though  the  cost  of  life  weighs  no  more  heavily 
upon  him  than  upon  them.  Ti)e  fact  that  he  often  works  oidy 
two  or  three  months  of  the  year  at  gunny-bags,  and  spends  the 
rest  of  his  time  in  the  more  leisurely  and  congenial  scratching  of 
his  fields,  and  above  all,  the  fact  that  in  India  the  enterprises  of 
the  foreigner  accommodate  themselves— not  of  philantrophy  but 


l82        THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


of  necessity — to  tlie  customs  of  the  country.  It  is  not  the  service 
of  tlie  sahib,  with  liis  few  thousand  personal  establisliments,  his 
few  liundred  i)iantations  and  shops,  his  few  dozen  factory  chim- 
neys rising  along  the  lloogldy,  tainting  the  sea  breeze  of  Bombay, 
that  can  revolutionise  their  way  of  life  for  two  hundred  and  fifty 
million  people  with  whom  custom  is  religion  and  religion  is  more 
than  rice.  But  Mr.  Batcham  htid  no  heart  to  be  comforted  by 
such  trivialities,  lie  made  emotic^nal  notes,  dwelt  upon  the 
"eight  anna  daily  pittance,"  and  felt  a  still  more  poignant  pri- 
vate grief  that  there  was  no  cause  for  louder  sorrow. 

At  first  Mr.  Dabendra  Lai  Benerjee  was  inclined  to  assure 
his  honourable  friend  that  there  was  not  the  slightest  need  for 
any  beneficent  interference  with  the  condition  of  his  humble  com- 
patriots, to  praise  but  to  deprecate  Mr.  Batcham's  enthusiasm  in 
the  matter,  and  to  point  out  that  the  only  true  and  lasting  eleva- 
tion of  her  Majesty's  most  loyal  subjects  in  India  must  be  brought 
about  through  that  much  maligned  and  little  understood  body, 
the  Indian  Congress.  But  it  was  a  very,  very  short  time  indeed 
before  Mr.  Debendra  Lai  Banerjce  found  himself  in  full  union 
with  the  noble  aims  of  this  British  benefactor.  He  had  only  to 
learn — and  he  learned  very  quickly — that  his  sympathy  would  be 
appreciated,  to  bestow  it  with  all  the  gushing  fulness  of  which 
the  Bengali  soul  is  capable,  and  Mr.  Debendra  Lai  Bancrjee's 
sympathy  was  invaluable  to  Mr.  Batcham.  It  disclosed  points  of 
weakness  in  the  Indian  factory  system  that  would  otherwise  have 
escaped  his  observation  to  this  day,  and  suggested  interpretations 
which  no  simi)le-minded  Briton  would  have  thought  of  alone. 
And  it  divined  Mr.  Batch  im's  dissatisfaction  that  he  could  not 
be  more  dissatisfied  with  remarkable  accuracy. 

In  taking  measures — Bengali  measures — to  secure  the  sym- 
pathy of  the  travelling  British  M.  P.  with  the  grand  progres- 


^HIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIB.       183 


t  the  service 
ilimeuts,  his 
;Ctory  chirn- 
of  Bombay, 
■ed  and  fifty 
jion  is  more 
Dmforted  by 
t  upon  the 
oi<^nant  pri- 

id  to  assure 

ist  need  for 

lumble  com- 

thusiasm  in 

isting  eleva- 

;  be  brought 

stood  body, 

time  indeed 

full  union 

lad  onlv  to 

ly  would  be 

s  of  whicli 

Bancrjee's 

d  points  of 

irwise  have 

rpretations 

of   alone. 

could  not 

the  syrii- 
d  progres- 


i 


sive  movement  of  Bengali  patriotism,  it  is  highly  advisable  to  dis- 
cover as  soon  as  possible  whether  he  has  any  little  "  movement  " 
of  his  own  in  contemplation  which  might  receive  a  slight  im- 
petus with  advantage.  It  is  then  generally  possible  to  combine 
the  two,  to  arrange  reciprocal  favours,  to  induce  the  globe-trot- 
ting potentate  to  take  "broader  views."  ^Ir.  Debendra  Lai 
Banerjee  put  the  whole  of  his  time,  and  a  vocabulary  which  no 
English  dictionary  could  improve,  at  Mr.  Batcham's  disposal,  to 
convince  him  that  this  factory  grievance  was  one  of  the  first 
whicli  the  Indian  Congress  would  press  upon  the  ear  of  the  Baj, 
once  it  had  an  official  right  to  make  suggestions  to  that  honour- 
able organ.  Although  Mr.  Banerjee  quite  agreed  with  Mr. 
Batcham  that  it  would  be  inadvisable  to  wait  until  that  hap- 
pened, he  would  like  Mr.  Batcham  to  understand  how  close  the 
interests  of  the  British  manufacturer  lay  to  the  bosom  of  the 
Indian  Congress — though  of  course  Mr.  Banerjee  designated 
them  as  the  wrongs  of  the  native  operatives.  In  the  meantime, 
however,  his  honourable  friend  was  naturally  restless,  naturally 
desired  to  lend  his  own  helping  hand  to  the  cause  he  had  at 
heart.  Mr.  Banerjee  was  overcome  bv  the  sublimitv  of  Mr. 
Batcham's  devotion,  and  suggested  a  little  evidence  acquired  per- 
sonally. If  it  were  possible  for  Mr.  Batcham  to  converse  with 
any  of  these  unfortunate  people  ! 

"  It's  the  terrible  disadvantage  of  not  knowing  the  language  !  " 
responded  Mr.  Batcham,  in  a  tone  which  suggested  that  the  lan- 
guage ought  to  be  supplied  to  Members  of  Parliament.  "  I 
have  conversed  with  'em  through  another  man,  but  it  was  very 
unsatisfactory.  Couldn't  get  anything  definite.  The  fact  is, 
Mr.  Banerjee,  the  other  man  was  an  Anglo-Indian,  and  I've  no 
doubt  the  poor  wretches  suffered  from  a  sort  of  unconscious  in- 
timidation ! " 


1 84 


THE   S/.Ur/J-:   AD  I' EX  TV  RES   OE  A    MEMSAHin. 


\-     i 


Mr.  BancrJGo  shook  liis  lioiul.  The  liead  liutl  a  black  silk  hat 
on  it,  and  shook  as  impressively  as  it  might  have  done  in  Lom- 
bard street  or  Westminster.  "  I  fear,"  said  Mi.  Banerjee,  "  that 
it  is  unhappily  but  too  probable."  Then  he  raised  his  eyebrows  in 
a  sadly  submissive  way,  took  out  his  pocket  handkerchief  and  used 
it  in  a  manner  which  suggested — very  respectfully — a  general 
dcjirecation  of  Anglo-Indians.  Mr.  Banerjee  must  have  used  it, 
I  think,  fortius  purpose.  I  doubt  whether  he  is  even  yet  suffi- 
cientlv  deterionited  bv  our  civilisation  to  take  out  his  handker- 
chief  seriously 

"  Above  all  things,"  added  3[r.  Banerjee,  thrusting  his  fat 
hand  into  the  breast  of  his  tightly-buttoned  frock  coat,  and  wrap- 
ping himself  up  in  the  situation,  "above  all  things  it  is  indispen- 
sable that  your  evidence  shall  be  unbiassed  in  every  particular. 
There  is  no  doubt,  I  de])lore  lo  tell  you,  that  here  in  India  the 
poor  and  the  needy  amongst  us  will  sometimes  be  wrongly  in- 
fluenced by  the  fear  of  being  deprived  of  the  staff  of  life.  I 
have  even  known  cases  where,  under  unjust  and  reprehensible 
intimidation,  i}erjnry " — Mr.  Banerjee's  tone  suggested,  "  I 
hardly  expected  you  to  believe  it !  " — "  has  been  committed  !" 

"  Dear  me,  I  dare  say,"  said  Mr.  Batcham,  "  that  happens 
everywhere." 

But  Mr.  Banerjee  had  more  than  sentimental  reflections 
upon  the  moral  turpitude  of  his  fellow  Aryans  to  contribute  to 
the  difficulty  of  his  honourable  friend.  He  had  given  his  hon- 
ourable friend's  difficulty  the  very  fullest  attention.  He  had 
chased  it  through  the  inqst  private  labyrinth  of  his  mind,  where 
he  had  come  into  sudden  and  violent  contact  with  Ambica  Nath 
Mitter.  And  in  the  joyful  shock  of  collision  with  Ambica  Nath 
Mitter,  Debendra  Lai  Banerjee  had  said  to  himself,  "  Why  didn't 
I  think  of  him  before?" 


A II in. 

lack  silk  liat 
•no  in  Lorn- 


tf 


icrjeo, 


that 


5  eyebrows  in 
liief  and  used 
y — a  general 
have  nsed  it, 
ven  yet  suffi- 
his  handker- 

isting  his  fat 
>at,  and  wrap- 
t  is  indispen- 
ry  particular. 
?  in  India  the 
e  wrongly  in- 
,ff  of  life.  I 
reprehensible 
iggested,  "  I 
nmitted ! " 
lat  happens 

id  reflections 
ontribute  to 
iven  his  hon- 

Dn.  He  had 
mind,  where 
\.mbica  Nath 
imbica  Nath 
Why  didn't 


T/f/-:    S/MP/.K   ADl'KX'J'l'KKS   OF  A    M  EM  SAN  I H.        185 

"  TiuTO  is  a  verv  intellifjent  vouni;  man  in  inv  ofVice,"  said 
Afr.  Huncrjee,  "•  who  was  formerly  emjtloyed  as  cleric  in  a  jute 
mill  luMV.  I  think  he  would  most  willingly  obtain  for  you  any 
grievances  you  nuiy  require."  Mr.  Banerjee  spoke  absent-miiul- 
edly,  reflecting  upon  the  qualiflcations  of  Aml)ica  for  the  task. 

"  The  statement  of  them,"  corrected  Mr.  Bat<'ham. 

"  The  statement  of  them — precisely,  yes.  Young  Mitter  has 
had  all  facilities  for  observing  the  oppression  in  the  factories, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  it  made  a  deep  impression  upon  ids  excel- 
lent heart,  lie  speaks  English  also  fairly  well.  1  will  send  him 
to  you." 

"  I  should  like  very  much  to  see  Mr.  Mitter,"  Mr.  Batcham 
remarked.     "  Mitter,  you  said  ?  " 

"  It  will  not  be  necessary  to  remember  his  name.  Call  him 
'  l^aboo  ' ;  he  will  answer  to  plain  '  Baboo.'  I  am  sure  he  will 
remember  well  about  the  oppressions." 

"■  I  should  be  even  better  pleased,"  said  Mr.  Batcham,  "  if  he 
brought  two  or  three  of  the  op]>ressed  with  him." 

"  I  think  he  could  also  do  that,"  replied  Mr.  Banerjee  with- 
out hesitation. 

Then  Mr.  Banerjee  went  away  and  explained  Mr.  Batcham's 
(I'fficulty  to  Ambica  Nath  Mitter.  Considering  how  discreetly 
Mr.  Banerjee  explained  it,  the  sympathetic  perception  shown  by 
Ambica  Xath  Mitter  was  extraordinary.  It  might  possibly  be 
explained  by  the  fact  that  they  both  sj)oke  Hindustani.  At  all 
events,  Mr.  Banerjee  dismissed  the  young  man  of  the  excellent 
heart  with  the  comfortable  feeling  that  Mr.  Batcham's  difficulty 
would  be  solved  quite  inexpensively. 

Two  days  after,  Ambica  presented  himself  at  the  residence  of 
the  Brownes,  accredited  to  Mr.  Batcham  by  Mr.  Debendra  Lai 
Banerjee.     Mr.  Browne  had  gone  to  oflftce,  Mrs.  Browne  had 

13 


h 


i! 


1 86         '/'///•-'    SI  Ml' 1.1:    .\1)]1:X'ILRI:S    (>/■    .1    J/AJ/.S. /////,'. 

gone  to  s\u)[).  Mr.  Butcluim,  ruddy  and  expansive  in  the  tliin- 
nest  of  flannels,  oecipied  a  large  })ortion  of  the  small  veranda 
alone.  The  time  was  most  fortuitous,  and  Mr.  Bateham  re- 
eeived  Mr.  Banerjee's  lahour  with  an  agreeable  sense  of  free- 
dom for  the  most  searehiug  investigations.  Having  well  break- 
fasted, digested  the  morning  paper,  and  fully  sn^oked  moreover, 
Mr.  Bateham  was  in  the  mood  for  the  most  heartrending  revela- 
tions. 

Ambiea  was  a  prepossessing  young  man,  Mr.  J^ateham 
thought.  His  lusti-ous  long  blaek  hair  was  brushed  smoothly 
baek  from  a  forehead  that  insisted  on  its  guilelessncss.  J  lis  soft 
brown  eyes  were  timid  but  trustful,  and  his  ambient  tissues 
si)reail  themselves  over  features  of  the  most  engagingly  aquiline 
eharacter.  lie  was  just  at  the  anti-protuberant  stage  of  baboo- 
dom,  there  was  no  offence  in  his  fatness.  He  wore  spotless  mus- 
lin draperies  dependent  from  either  shoulder,  and  his  })en  behind 
his  ear.  In  his  rear  were  three  others  mueh  like  himself,  but 
less  savoury,  less  lubricated,  less  comfortable  in  appearance. 
They  impressed  one  as  less  virtuous  too,  but  this  was  purely  the 
result  of  adversity. 

Mr.  liatcluim  began  by  asking  "  Mr.  Mitter "  to  sit  down, 
which  Mr.  Mitter  did  with  alacrity.  Never  in  his  life  had  ]\[r. 
Mitter  been  asked  to  sit  down  by  a  sahib  before.  Then  Mr. 
Bateham  took  out  his  note-book  and  pencil,  and  said  impressive- 
ly to  ^^r.  ]\ritter  that  above  all  things  these  men  must  under- 
stand that  they  were  to  tell  the  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and 
nothing  but  the  truth  with  regard  to  the  matters  upon  which  he 
was  about  to  question  them.     Then  he  questioned  them. 

Perhaps  it  is  unnecessary  to  go  into  Mr.  Batcham's  questions. 
They  were  put  witli  the  fluency  and  precision  of  a  mjin  of  busi- 
ness.    Ambiea  Nath  Mitter  understood  them  perfectly,  and  ex- 


IH 


sAHin. 


in  the  tliin- 
iiiiill  vt'raiulii 
Biik'luiin  11'- 
L'liso  of  five- 
L(  well  brotik- 
;('(!  moreover, 
iidiiii;  revek- 

W  w  Hatcluim 
lied  .smoothly 
[?ss.  J I  is  soft 
ibient  tissues 
iiigly  jiqiiiline 
tagc  of  baboo- 
spotless  niiis- 
lis  })en  behind 
:>  himself,  but 
I  appearance, 
•as  purely  the 

to  sit  down, 

life  had  Mr. 
Then  :\lr. 

d  impressive- 
must  nnder- 
e  truth,  and 

pon  whicli  he 

hem. 

m's  questions, 
man  of  busi- 

'ectlv,  and  ex- 


(C 


y. 


1 88 


'I' IN'.  SI  Ml' IE  An\'i:\ri'Ri:s  or  ./  memsaiiih. 


I 


pluiiu'fl  tlu'Ui  ii(linir;il)ly.  'riioy  clicntod  cxiictly  wliat  Mr. 
liiitclumi  wanted  to  know.  His  fat,  rod  hand  trembled  with 
avidity  as  lie  set  down  fact  after  fact  of  tlie  most  "  painful  "  de- 
scription— or  j)ossibiy  it  was  agitated  by  an  iiulignation  which 
Mr.  IJateham  doubtless  could  not  wholly  suppress.  And,  indeed, 
the  recital  of  tlie  wrojigs  which  tliese  tliree  miserable  men  had 
suffered  under  the  cruel  han<l  of  the  tyrannical  sirdar,*  and  the 
indilferent  eye  of  the  callous  sahib,  would  have  moved  an  even 
less  susceptible  heart  than  that  of  a  Hritish  manufacturer  in  the 
same  line  of  business.  One  had  been  beaten  with  stri])es — he 
siiowed  Mr.  Matcham  the  weal  on  his  shoulder,  and  Mr.  Batcham 
touched  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  dranuitic  etfect  of  saying  so  after- 
wards. Another  had  been  compelled  to  work  four  hours  a  day 
overtime  for  a  week  without  a  pice  of  extra  pay;  the  third  had 
humblv  begged  for  a  dav's  leave  to  attend  the  burning  of  his 
grandmother,  and  when  he  returned  had  been  abruptly  and 
unjustly  dismissed — the  sahib  had  said  he  wished  to  see  his  face 
no  more.  It  was  useless  to  comjilain ;  the  factory  sahibs  would 
cut  their  wages,  and  the  other  sahil)S  did  not  care.  They  were 
all  poor  men  ;  they  could  not  buy  the  law.  At  this  point  Mr. 
Batcham  grew^  (luite  feverish.  He  nnbuttoned  his  shirt-collar, 
and  interspersed  his  notes  with  interjection-points.  "  This  is 
better,"  he  said  to  himself — "  I  mean  w^orse,  than  I  expected." 
The  interview  took  a  long  time — quite  three-quarters  of  an  hour 
— but  ]\rr.  Batcham  was  distinctly  of  the  opinion  that  it  had  not 
been  misspent.  And  when  Mr.  Batcham  closed  his  note-book, 
and  said  to  ]\rr.  Mitter  that  this  was  a  very  sad  state  of  things, 
but  that  would  do  for  the  present,  his  three  down-trodden  In- 
dian fellow-subjects  knelt  weeping  and  kissed  the  uppers  of  Mr. 


***  Native  manager. 


,'    wliiit     Mr. 
■onibliMl  with 
piiinful  "  <lt'- 
nsition  wliich 
And,  iudi'od, 
il)k'  men  had 
(hir,*  and  the 
oved  ail  even 
icturer  in  tiie 
h  stripes — he 
Mr.  Batidiam 
ying  so  after- 
•  liours  a  day 
the  third  had 
iirning  of  his 
abruptly  and 
0  see  liis  face 
sahibs  would 
Thev  were 
|his  point  Mr. 
s  shirt-collar, 
ts.     "This  is 
I  expected." 
rs  of  an  hour 
lat  it  had  not 
is  note-book, 
lite  of  things, 
-trodden  In- 
lippers  of  Mr. 


4 


THE   SIMPLE  ADIEXTUKES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIE.      i  S9 

Batchani's  broad  Mrilish  boots,  invoking  the  secular  blessings  of 
heaven  upon  this  '' ])rotector  of  tlie  poor."  Mr.  liatchani  had  to 
shullle  his  feet  under  his  cliair  so  suddeidy  that  lie  nearly  dis- 
located one  of  his  knees.  "Don't!"  said  he,  "pray  don't,  not 
on  any  acccjunti"  And  he  raised  them  with  his  own  hands, 
very  nearly  mingled  his  tears  with  theirs,  and  immediately  after- 
wards made  a  most  dramatic  note  of  it. 

Mr.  Jiatcham  had  not  breakfasted  the  next  morning  in  fact, 
he  was  looking  at  his  watch  and  wondering  why  the  Hi'ownes 
were  always  so  confoundedly  late  with  their  meals  when  his 
bearer  came  up  and  inquired  whether  tlie  sahib  would  see  again 
the  three  "admi"  *  he  luul  seen  the  day  before,  they  waited 
below  in  the  compound.  Breakfast  was  still  ten  minutes  olV, 
and  Mr.  Batcham  said  he  would  go  down,  lie  went  down,  re- 
ceived the  men  with  alTability,  and  learned  through  his  Knglish- 
speaking  bearer  that  they  had  been  the  victims  of  great  injustice 
at  the  hands  of  Ambica  Nath  Mitter.  This  one,  it  seemed,  had 
persuaded  them  to  come  to  the  sahib  and  leave  work  for  the  day 
on  the  promise  not  only  of  paying  them  their  day's  wages,  l)ut 
of  making  the  matter  right  with  the  sirdar  at  the  factory.  In- 
stead of  which,  he  had  paid  them  only  half  a  day's  Mages,  and 
when  thev  returned  that  morning  thev  found  themselves  dis- 
missed.  Therefore,  knowing  the  heart  of  the  sahib  that  it  was 
full  of  mercy,  they  had  come  to  cast  themselves  at  his  feet. 
They  were  all  poor  men,  a  very  little  would  satisfy  them — two 
rupees  each  perhaps. 

"That's  six  rupees!"  said  >rr.  liatcham  seriously,  '  .  vo 
rupees  each  would  keep  you  for  nearly  a  month  in  idleness. 
You  can  get  employment  much  sooner  than  that."    Mr.  Batcham 


*  Persons. 


190 


Tim    SIMPLE   ADVEXrrRES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


knitted  liis  ])liiliiutl»r()i)ic  brow,  "I'll  «ce  you  aftiT  breakfast," 
lie  said,  as  tlie  kitimitgar  came  to  aiuioimee  it. 

The  (luestioii  of  his  duty  in  tlie  matter  of  the  six  rupees  so 
auritated  Mr.  Uatcham  that  lie  consulted  vouii<;  lirowne  about  it 
at  tlie  break fast-taljle,  and  tliat  is  the  reason  wliy  it  is  I,  and  not 
Mr.  Batcham,  who  recount  ids  ex])erience  with  Ambica  ^'ath 
Mitter  to  the  })ublic.  Young  Browne  heard  his  guest  politely 
and  sy  in  pathetically  through  before  he  ventured  to  express  an 
opinion.  Kven  tiien  he  deferred  it.  "  V\\  have  a  look  at  your 
factory- wallahs,"  said  young  Browne.  Presently  he  sent  the 
bearer  for  them,  who  came  u[)  with  two.  'J'lie  other,  he  said, 
had  been  taken  with  a  sudden  indisposition  and  had  gone 
away. 

Young  Browne  put  up  his  eye-glass — he  sometimes  wore  an 
eye-glass,  it  was  the  })urest  affectation — and  looked  at  the  victims 
of  British  oppression  in  India  as  they  stood  with  their  hands 
behind  them  in  acute  discomfort,  twining  and  untwining  their 
dusty  toes.  As  he  looked,  a  smile  api)eared  under  the  eye-glass, 
which  gradual  I V  broadened  and  broadened  until  it  knocked  the 
eye-glass  out,  and  young  Browne  laughed  until  the  tears  came 
into  his  eyes.  "  Ifs  too  good  !  "  said  young  Browne  brokenly. 
"It's  too  good!"  and  laughed  again  until  Mr.  Batcham's  an- 
noyance became  serious  and  obvious  and  it  was  necessary  to 
explain. 

"  I  don't  know  what  these  men  may  have  learned  incidentaUy 
about  jute,''  said  he  wiping  his  eyes,  "but  that's  not  their  occu- 
pation, Mr.  Batcham,  I — I  Inippen  to  know  their  faces.  They're 
both  umid wallahs  in  Watson  and  Selwyn's,  indigo  people,  next 
door  to  our  place." 

"Dear  me,  are  you  sure?'"  asked  Mr.  Batcham  with  a  judi- 
cial contraction  of  his  evebrows.     "  What  is  an  umidwallah  ?" 


////>'. 


/■///•;    SIMri.E    An  VEX  TV  RES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIR.       iqi 


l)iviikfa.st," 

:  nipeos  so 
le  about  it 

1,  and  not 
ibica  Nath 
3st  politely 
express  an 
lok  at  your 
sent  the 
■r,  he  said, 

had    gone 

L's  wore  an 

:he  victims 

lieir  hands 

iiing  their 

eye-glass, 

ocked  the 

ears  came 

brokenly. 

lam's  an- 

3essary  to 

'■iilcnt((lhj 
leir  occu- 
They're 
">ple,  next 

li  a  judi- 
3ah?" 


"  Uniid  means  hope — a  man  of  hope.     Tliey  come  and  ask  to 
work  in  tiie  otiice  as  a  favour,  and  don't  get  any  j)ay,  expecting 


i 


§ 


THE   OTHER   HAD   BEEN   TAKEN   Wrru    A    srUDKX    INDISPOSITION'   AND   HAD 

GONE   AWAV. 

to  be  taken  on  in  case  of  a  vacancy.  These  scoundrels  have 
been  in  Watson  and  Selwyn's  for  the  last  year.  1  venture  to 
state  they've  never  been  inside  a  jute  mill  in  their  lives." 


192 


riir.    SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES  OE  A    MEMSAI//B. 


i  il 


!i 


''  Tumera  kam,  k'on  liai?"  *  asked  young  Browne  mockingly 
of  one  baboo. 

Tlie  baboo  cast  down  his  eyes  nervously  and  said,  "  Wasson 
>5ewwin  (;oni])any  /capas,  sahib,'''' j;  and  the  other  to  the  same 
question  made  the  same  answer.  They  were  crushed  and  sorrow- 
ing baboos  suffering  under  a  cruel  blow  of  fate.  Why  siiould  it 
have  been  granted  to  only  one  of  them  to  conclude  to  be  indis- 
posed at  the  right  moment  ? 

I  am  afraid  the  savage  Anglo-Indian  instinct  arose  in  young 
Bro^'ne  and  caused  him  to  tease  those  baboos  a  little  that  morn- 
ing. It  was  very  wrong  of  him  doubtless,  and  then  it  led  to  the 
destruction  of  a  number  of  Mr.  Batcham's  most  interesting 
notes,  which  is  another  regretable  fact.  But  the  only  person 
who  really  suffered  was  Ambica  Nath  Mitter.  Mr.  Batcham,  of 
course,  thought  it  his  duty  to  inform  Mr.  Debendra  Lai  Banerjee 
of  the  whole  unfortunate  affair,  and  Mr.  Debendra  Lai  Banerjeo, 
in  a  white  heat  of  indignation,  which  lasted  several  days,  dis- 
missed Ambica. 

"  IIow  could  I  repose  further  trust  in  a  man  like  that !  "  said 
Mr.  Banerjee  to  ]\Ir.  Batcham.  Besides,  privately,  Mr.  Banerjee 
thought  Ambica  grasping.  Mr.  Banerjee  had  entirely  intended 
that  out  of  the  five  rupees  Ambica  received  from  him,  the  "  fac- 
tory wallahs"  should  be  paid  in  full. 


*  Your  work,  what  is  it  ? 


f  With  Watson  Sc4wyu  Company. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


193 


>c'kin<^lv 


Wiissou 
le  sjinie 

sorrow- 
rnoultl  it 
JO  iiulis- 

n  young 
lit  niorii- 
?d  to  the 
tcivstiiig 
y  person 
cliJini,  of 
Banerjee 
UjuuTJee, 
lays,  dis- 

t !  "  said 

Banerjee 

ntendcd 

Ihe  "  fac- 


kanv. 


otlier. 


(ilAlTKk   XVII. 

S*J)OT|i<)CIALLY,  as  I  have  said,  Mr.  Ratcham  repre- 
sented one  of  our  cold  weather  phenomena. 
They  remain  phenomena,  the  globe-trotters, 
notwithstanding  the  regularity  of  their  re- 
ap])earance,  flashing  like  November  comets 
across  the  tranquil  Anglo-Indian  mind, 
which  refuses  to  accustom  itself  to  one  class 
of  its  heavenly  visitors  any  more  than  to  the 
It  is  inaccurate,  however,  to  use  any  tigure  jf  speech 
whicii  represents  ACr.  Hatcham  as  a  meteoric  body,  lie  had  his 
prescribed  orbit — it  is  all  laid  down  in  Murray — and  he  circled 
through  it.  revolving  regularly  upon  the  axis  of  an  excellent 
digestion  with  great  gravity  of  demeanor.  When  he  appeared 
upon  Calcutta's  horizon,  Calcutta  could  only  })ut  up  a  hel})les8 
eyeglass  and  writhe  wearily  until  the  large  red  luminary  dipped 
again  \\\  the  west.  Then  for  a  week  it  set  at  nought  and 
mocked  him.  Then  it  unanimously  forgot  him,  and  was  only 
reminded  of  his  unnecessary  existence  afterward  by  the  acerbity 
of  the  E}iijUshman'*s  comments  upon  his  intelligence,  which 
was  entirelv  deserved. 

It  was  interesting  to  watcli  Mr.  Batcham  in  the  process  of 
forming  an  opinion  of  Anglo-Indian  society  ;  that  is,  of  making 
his  observations  match  the  rags  and  tags  of  ideas  about  us  which 
he  had  gathered  togetlier  from  various  popular  sources  before 


fK 


TJT 


I  I 

I'r 


ll  i 


I  1  ! 


t  ;; 


III 
!l 


i    ! 


194 


77/A"   SIMPLE  AD]' EX  TURKS   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


coming  out.  Tliey  were  eiirioiis,  Mr.  Batehiiin's  impressions, 
and  they  led  him  into  even  greater  discreetness  of  conduct  than 
would  naturally  be  shown  by  one  of  the  largest  manufacturers  of 
the  North  of  England,  of  sound  evangelical  views  and  inordinate 
abdominal  development,  travelling  in  search  of  Truth.  \\\  tlie 
doubtful  mazes  of  the  flipi)ant  Anglo-Indian  capital  Mr.  Batcham 
felt  that  it  behoved  him  to  wrap  the  capacious  mantle  of  his 
virtue  well  about  him  and  to  be  very  heedful  of  his  walk  and 
conversation,  lie  kept  a  sharp  eye  open  for  invitations  to  light 
and  foolish  behaviour  on  the  part  of  possible  Mrs.  llawksbees 
and  Mrs.  Mallowes  whom  he  met  at  Government  House,  and  he 
saw  a  great  many.  When  Lady  Blebbins  asked  him  if  Mrs. 
Batcham  were  with  him,  Mr.  Batcham  said  to  himself,  "  There 
is  certainly  something  beliind  thut ! "  and  when  Mrs.  Walter 
Lulf,  who  is  as  jJi'oper  as  pro2)er  can  be,  proposed  to  drive  him 
about  the  Maidan  in  her  barouche,  Mr.  Batcham  said  coyly  but 
firmly  that  Mrs.  Luff  must  excuse  him  for  asking,  but  was  her 
husband  to  be  of  the  party?  Some  such  nncompromising  front 
Mr.  l^atcham  showed  to  temptation  in  forms  even  more  insidi- 
ous than  these.  I  need  not  say  that  he  never  in  any  ease  failed 
to  make  a  careful  note  of  it ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  long  be- 
fore this  reaches  you  the  glaring  facts  will  have  been  confided 
with  inculpating  initials  to  the  sympathetic  British  public 
through  the  columns  of  the  Times  over  the  bashful  signature  of 
Jonas  Batcham. 

Mr.  Batcham  saw  no  reason  for  concealing  his  preconceived 
ideas  of  Anglo-liulian  society  from  any  of  the  Anglo-Indians  he 
met — our  morals  embarrassed  him  as  little  as  he  supposed  that 
they  embarrassed  us.  lie  discussed  them  with  us  in  candid  sor- 
row, he  enquired  of  us  about  them,  he  told  us  exactly  to  what 
extent  he  considered   the   deterioration   of    the    ethical    sense 


B. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTl'KES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


195 


ressions, 
ict  thiiu 
turers  of 
ordinate 

111  the 
Biitcluim 
[e  of  liis 
^iilk  and 
s  to  light 
avvksbees 
},  and  he 
I  if  Mrs. 
',  "  There 
s.  Walter 
Irive  him 
coyly  but 
t  was  her 
ing  front 
re  insidi- 
ase  failed 

long  be- 

confided 
|h    public 

nature  of 

conceived 
idians  he 
|>osed  that 
indid  sor- 
y  to  what 
}al    sense 


amongst  us  was  to  be  ascribed  to  the  climate.  He  spoke  calmly 
and  dispassionately  about  these  things,  as  an  indifferent  foreigner 
might  speaK  about  the  exchange  value  of  the  rupee  or  the  quality 
of  Peliti's  ices,  lie  seemed  to  think  that  as  a  subject  of  conver- 
sation we  should  rather  like  it,  that  his  investigations  would 
have  a  morbid  interest  for  us.  It  was  reported  tluit  he  ap- 
proached an  A.  1).  C.  in  uniform  with  the  tentative  renuirk 
that  he  believed  Simla  was  a  very  immoral  i)lace,  and  that  the 
A.  I).  C.  in  uniform  made  with  great  difficulty  three  wrinkles 
in  his  forehead — it  is  almost  impossible  for  an  A.  1),  ('.  in 
uniform  to  wrinkle  himself  —  and  said  with  calm  surju'ise, 
"  We  are  Simla,"  subsequently  reporting  the  matter  to  the 
Viceroy  and  suggesting  the  bastinado.  The  stoiy  adds  that 
tiie  Viceroy  said  that  nothing  could  be  done,  because  an 
M.  P.  was  certain  to  go  home  and  tell.  But  this  is  the  merest 
rumour. 

^Ir.  Batcham  found  the  Brownes  disappointing  in  this  re- 
spect as  he  found  them  disappointing  in  other  respects.  They 
were  not  extravagant,  they  were  not  in  debt,  and  Mrs.  Browne 
neither  swore  nor  smoked  cigarettes  nor  rode  in  steeplechases. 
^fr.  Batcham  investigated  them  until  he  found  them  quite  hope- 
lessly proper,  when  he  put  them  down  as  the  shining  and  praise- 
worthy exception  that  proves  the  rule,  and  restricted  his  en- 
quiries to  the  private  life  of  their  neighbours.  Thus,  driving 
upon  the  Tied  Road  in  the  evening  and  encountering  a  smart 
young  pair  in  a  cabriolet,  Mr.  Batcham  would  demand,  "  Who  is 
that  lady  ?  " 

"That's  Mrs.  Finsley-Jones,"  ^Frs.  Browne  would  reply. 

"  And  with  whom,"  Mr.  Batcham  would  continue  severely, 
"  is  Mrs.  Finsley-Jones  driving?" 

"  With  Mr.  Finslev-.Tones." 


Ig6       TIJE   SlMri.E   A  DV  EX  TURKS   OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


A 


I 


I 


I 


li: 


"  Oh — ah  !  uiid  wlio  is  that  lady  in  the  straw  hat  ou  tlie  grey 
cob  ?  " 

"Mrs.  MacDonald,  1  think/' 

"  And  tlie  gentleman  ?  " 

"  Her  husband." 

"  lieally  !  yon  are  quite  sure  it  is  her  husband,  Mrs.  Browne. 
I  understood  that  in  India  ladies  seldom  rode  with  their  hus- 
bands." 

"■  On  the  contrary,  Mr.  Batcham,"  Helen  returned  innocently, 
"  horses  are  apt  to  be  so  skittisli  in  India  that  it  isn't  really  safe 
to  go  out  without  a  nuin,  and  of  course  one  would  rather  have 
one's  husband  than  anybody  else." 

"  Not  at  all,  I  assure  you,  Mrs.  Browne.  I  understand  that 
quite  the  opposite  oi)inion  prevails  among  the  ladies  of  Calcutta, 
and  I  can  depend  upon  the  source  of  my  information.  Now 
these  two  people  in  the  dog  cart — they  are  actually  flirting  with 
each  other  iu  broad  daylight !  It  is  impossible,"  said  Mr. 
Batcham,  with  an  accent  of  grave  deprecation,  "  that  they  can 
be  married." 

"M:.  and  Mrs.  Tubbs,"  said  Helen  shortly,  "they  were  mar- 
ried about  the  same  time  as  we  were.  Why  shouldn't  they  flirt 
with  each  other  if  they  want  to '? " 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  young  Browne,  who  was  driving.  "  It 
leads  to  incorrect  ideas  of  their  relations,  you  see.  Fact  is,  I 
caught  Tubbs  kissing  his  wife  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  Maidan  by 
the  Cathedral  myself  the  other  evening,  and  it  was  such  a  very 
dark  corner  that  if  I  hadn't  happened  to  be  lighting  a  cheroot  at 
the  time,  1  wouldn't  have  believed  that  Tubbs  was  Tubbs  any 
more  than  ]\Ir.  Batcham  does.  Tubbs  can't  afford  a  popular 
misapprehension  that  he  isn't  ^Irs.  Tubbs's  husband.  I'll  tell 
Tubbs." 


//IB. 

)u  the  grey 


77//'.'    SIM  PL/-:   AI)rK.\"/'i'AW-:s   OF  A    MEMSAHIH. 


•97 


I'S.  Browne, 
their  liiis- 

innocently, 

really  safe 

rather  have 

rstaiid  that 
uf  Calcutta, 
tioii.  Now 
iirting  with 
'  said  Mr. 
it  they  can 

were  mar- 
I't  they  flirt 


Iving 


"It 

Fact  is,  I 

iMaidan  by 

|uch  a  very 

cheroot  at 

[rubbs  any 

a  popular 

ni  tell 


"I  think,"  said  llel"n  rebukingiy,  "that  yon  might  have 
taken  some  otlier  place  to  light  your  cigar  in,  (icorge." 

"  Didn't  light  it.  Dropped  the  match,  I  was  so  startled. 
Last  matcli  I  had,  too.  I've  got  that  against  'L'ubbs.  Oh,  I 
must  speak  to  Tubbs  I  " 

"If  you  speak  to  Tubbs,"  Mr.  Hatchiim  i)ut  in  prudently, 
"don't  mention  my  mime.  I  am  glad  to  fiiul  myself  wrong  in 
this  case.     But  Mr.  lianerjoe  assures  me — " 

The  pony  leaped  forward  under  the  cut  of  young  Browne's 
whip,  and  Mr.  I>atcham  very  nearly  tumbled  out  <>f  the  back 
seat.  Young  lirowne  didn't  apologise.  "Do  you  m.  an  to 
sav,"  said  he  in  a  red  fury,  ""^hat  you  have  been  talking  to  a 
beastly  baboo  about  the  white  women  of  Calcutta  ?  It — it 
isn't  usual." 

It  was  as  much  for  their  own  amusement  as  for  their  guest's 
edification  that  the  Brownes  asked  Mr.  Sayter  to  dinner  to  meet 
Mr.  Batcham.  Mr.  Sayter  came  unsuspectingly,  and  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  he  has  not  yet  forgiven  the  Brownes. 
Xobodv  in  Calcutta  could  hate  a  large  red  globe-trotter  more 
ferociously  than  Mr.  Sayter  did.  And  the  Brownes  failed  to 
palliate  their  offence  by  asking  anybody  else.  They  were  a 
square  party,  and  Mr.  liatcham  sat  opposite  ^Ir.  Sayter,  who 
went  about  afterwards  talking  about  his  recent  narrow  escape 
from  suffocation. 

Mr.  Batcham  welcomed  Mr.  Sayter  as  if  he  had  been  in  his 
own  house  or  his  own  "  works."  He  shook  ^Ir.  Sayter  warmly 
by  his  slender  and  frigid  hand  and  said  he  was  delighted  to  meet 
him — it  was  always  a  pleasure  to  meet  representative  men,  and 
his  young  friends  had  told  him  that  Mr.  Sayter  was  a  very 
representative  man  indeed,  standing  almost  at  the  head  of  his 
department. 


\\'<\ 


198        7^//^'    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 

"  Oh,  goodness  gracious  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  8ayter,  sinking  into 
a  chair.     "  Fancy  being  tallved  about  like  that  now." 

"  I  have  a  thousand  tilings  to  ask  you,"  continued  Mr.  Batch- 
am  with  increasing  cordiality,  "  a  thousand  questions  are  surg- 
ing in  my  brain  at  this  very  moment.  This  India  of  yours  is  a 
wonderful  place,  sir  !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Sayter,  "I  suppose  I  can't  help  that.  But 
it  isn't  as  wonderful  as  it  used  to  be — that's  one  comfort." 

"I'm  afraid,"  Mr.  Batcham  remarked  with  seriousness,  "that 
your  eyes  are  blinded.  I've  met  numbers  of  people  out  here — 
people  of  more  than  average  perception — whose  eyes  seem  to  me 
to  be  blinded  to  the  beauties  of  Ind." 

"  Probably  affected  by  the  dust  of  Ind,"  put  in  young  Browne. 
"  Will  you  take  my  wife  in,  ]\Ir.  Sayter?  " 

"  No,"  said  ^Ir.  Sayter,  "  it's  the  perverseness  of  the  Anglo- 
Indian.  He  thinks  if  he  talks  about  the  beauties  of  Ind  the 
Secretary  of  State  will  cut  his  pay." 

"  And  yet,"  said  Mr.  Batcham,  tucking  his  napkin  into  his 
capacious  waistcoat,  "  the  average  public  official  in  this  country 
seems  to  me  to  be  pretty  fairly  remunerated." 

"  As  a  matter  of  fact,"  said  ]Mr.  Sayter  confidentially,  looking 
up  from  his  soup,  "  they're  grossly  overpaid.  They  live  in  lux- 
ury. I  am  one  of  them.  I  live  in  luxury.  I  have  a  servant  to 
put  on  my  boots.  In  England  what  action  should  I  be  obliged 
to  take  in  regard  to  my  boots?  I  should  be  obliged  to  put  them 
on  myself  !  And  for  the  misfortune  of  living  in  a  country  where 
I  get  my  boots  put  on,  I'm  paid  twice  as  much  as  I  would  be  in 
England,  and  three  times  as  much  as  I'm  worth.  Monstrous, 
isn't  it?" 

Mr.  Batcham  smiled  a  benign  smile  of  approbation.  "  I  as- 
sure you,  sir,  that  is  not  the  way  the  situation  has  been  repre- 


AH  IB. 

sinking  into 

I  Mr.  Butch- 
is  are  surg- 
f  yours  is  a 

)  that.     But 

fort." 

sness,  "  that 
out  here — 
seem  to  nie 

ing  Browne. 

the  Anglo- 
of  Ind  the 

in  into  his 
lis  country 

ly,  looking 
ive  in  lux- 
servant  to 
be  obliged 

0  2)nt  them 

ntry  where 
ould  be  in 

Monstrous, 


7J/E   SIMPLE   ADVEXI'l'RES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIE. 


1 


199 


n. 


(( 


I  as- 


een  repre- 


sented to  me  thus  far.  I  hope  that  before  1  leave  India  1  may 
meet  other  gentlemen  who  like  yourself  have  the  moral  rectitude 
to  rise  above  mere  considerations  of  gain — 1  may  say  of  plunder 
— and  state  tho  case  frankly  as  it  is.  With  regard  to  yourvself  1 
liave  no  doubt  you  exaggerate,  but  I  will  tell  you  candidly  that  I 
have  myself  for  some  time  held  the  same  opinion  precisely  witli 
regard  to — with  regard  to — " 

"  The  Indian  services  generally.  Exactly,"  responded  Mr. 
Sayter,  "  and  when  you  get  home  you  mean  to  bring  it  under 
the  consideration  of  I^ord  Kimberley.  Quite  so.  I  wouldn't  l)e 
too  sanguine  about  popularizing  your  view  among  the  Europeans 
out  here — the  Anglo-Indian  is  a  sordid  person — but  all  tho 
baboos  will  l)e  vory  pleased.  You  will  of  course  endeavour  to 
extend  the  emplovment  of  baboos  in  the  hidier  branches  of  the 
Covenanted  service — the  judicial  and  administrative.  They 
come  much  cheaper,  and  their  feelings  are  very  deeply  hurt  at 
being  overlooked  in  favour  of  the  alien  Englishman.  You  could 
get  an  excellent  baboo  for  any  purpose  on  earth  for  thirty  rupees 
a  month.  And  yet,"  continued  Mr.  Sayter  absently,  "  they  pay 
me  two  thousand." 

Mr.  Batcham  looked  reflective,  and  young  Browne  said, 
"  Cheap  and  nasty." 

"  Oh,  dear  no  !  "  remarked  Mr.  Sayter,  "  A  nice  fat  wholesome 
baboo  who  could  write  a  beautiful  hand— probably  a  graduate  of 
the  Calcutta  University.  Talking  of  universities  reminds  me  to 
add,  Mr.  Batcham,  that  the  university  baboo  is  not  quite  so 
cheap  as  he  used  to  be.  He  is  still  very  plentiful  and  very  inex- 
pensive, but  his  price  is  going  up  since  the  new  regulations." 

"  Regulations !  "  said  Mr.  Batcham.  "  You  j)eople  will  regu- 
late these  unfortunate  natives  off  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  We  should  love  to,"  replied  Mr.  Sayter,  "  but  we  can't.    You 


«   • 


200 


rill':  siMPLi-:  advex tures  or  a  memsahih. 


have  no  idea  of  their  rate  of  multiplication.  Those  i)articular 
regulatiojis  were  a  frightful  blow  to  the  baboo." 

"May  1  ask  their  nature?"  ^[r.  Hatchani  in(iuired. 

"  Oh  yes.  They  were  connected  with  the  cxsiminations  for 
degrees.  It  was  thought  remarkable  for  some  time  how  univer- 
sally the  baboos  passed  them,  and  how  singularly  similar  the 
answers  were.  The  charitable  put  it  down  to  tiie  extraordinary 
ai)titude  of  the  Bengali  for  the  retention  of  })rinted  matter  and 
the  known  tendency  of  his  mind  to  run  in  grooves.  The  un- 
charitable put  the  other  baboos  in  charge  of  printing  the  exami- 
nation papers  under  a  mean  system  of  espionage.  I  regret  to 
say  that  it  was  oidy  too  successful ;  they  caught  a  whole  batch  of 
baboos  taking  the  means  of  earning  an  honest  living  a  little  i)re- 
maturely." 

"  Then  what  happened  ?  "  asked  young  Browne.  "  1  haven't 
heard  this  story." 

"  I  don't  remember  whether  they  suppressed  that  lot  of  ba- 
boos or  not.  But  they  put  an  end  to  the  extra  edition  of  exami- 
nation papers  system.  They  had  the  lithographing  stone 
brought  into  an  office  where  there  was  only  one  man,  a  Euro- 
pean, and  they  shut  the  shutters  and  they  locked  the  door — oh, 
they  took  stringent  measures ! — and  they  had  the  papers  turned 
oflf  by  a  coolie,  in  solemn  secrecy,  the  day  before  the  examina- 
tion." 

"  That  must  have  been  entirely  satisfactory,"  Mr.  Batcham 
remarked. 

"  It  was  not.  The  baboos  passed  in  great  numbers  that  year 
and  sent  in  their  papers  with  a  smile.  Then  I  believe  they 
stopped  up  the  key-hole  and  blindfolded  the  coolie.  It  made  no 
difference  whatever." 

"How  did  they  find  out?"  Helen  asked. 


T 


10  particular 

(I. 

illations  for 

liow  luiivcr- 

siniiiar  tlio 
X  t  mo  I'd  i  nary 

matter  and 
?s.  Tlie  un- 
;5  the  oxami- 

I  regret  to 
lole  batch  of 

a  little  pre- 

"  I  haven't 

at  lot  of  ba- 
)n  of  exami- 
)hing  stone 
lan,  a  Enro- 
le  door — oh, 
ipers  turned 
10  examina- 

r.  Batch  am 

rs  that  vear 
)elieve  they 
It  made  no 


THE   SlMri.E  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAI//B.       20I 

"  In  the  end  they  took  to  watching  this  simple,  ignorant 
coolie.  And  they  observed  that  when  he  had  finisiied  his  work 
lie  invariably  sat  down  and  rested  on  the  litliograi)liing  stone. 
So  that  he  went  away  charged,  one  might  say,  with  the  wisdom 
of  the  examiners,  and  published  himself  in  the  bazar  for  I  dare- 
say four  annas  a  copy." 

"  That  boy,  if  he  lived  in  the  United  States,  would  rise  to  be 
liresident,"  remarked  Mr.  Batcham  oracularly. 

"  He  was  of  great  assistance  to  the  li.  A.'s  of  that  year. 
Though  I  believe  they  found  him  rather  bony  for  a  satisfactory 
proof,  and  they  complained  that  the  sense  of  the  questions  was 
a  little  disconnected." 

"  Mrs.  Browne,  have  you  seen  anything  of  the  Tootes  lately?" 

"  Nobody  has,  Mr.  Sayter.     Mr.  Toote  has  fever." 

"  Temperature  one  hundred  and  five  this  morning,"  said  Mrs. 
Browne.     "  The  third  attack  this   year." 

"  And  the  Archie  Campbells  are  going  home  on  sick  leave," 
added  Helen.  "  Poor  Mr.  Campbell  is  down  wich  abscess  of  the 
liver.     There's  a  great  deal  of  sickness  about." 

"  Not  more  than  usual ;  it's  a  deadly  time  of  year,"  Mr.  Sayter 
leinarked.     "  You  heard  about  Bobby  Hamilton?" 

"  Hamilton  seedy  ?  "  inquired  young  Browne.  "  I  saw  him 
riding  a  fine  beast  the  day  before  yesterday — he  looked  fairly  fit. 
Hamilton's  a  very  knowing  chap  about  horses,  lie's  promised  to 
look  after  a  pony  for  my  wife." 

"  You'll  have  to  get  somebody  else,  I'm  afraid." 

"  Hamilton's  not " 

"  Y''es.  Went  to  the  funeral  this  morning.  Fine  chap.  Aw- 
ful pity.     Cholera." 

"  And  Mrs.  Hamilton  is  at  home  ! "  exclaimed  Helen. 

"With  another  baby.     Yes.     Four  now,  Hamilton  told  me 
14 


i     '  i 


202       Tlil'-    SIMri.E  ADVENTURES  OE  A  MEMSAllIH. 


i    !  : 


hist  liot  woutlier.  lleM  boon  seedy,  and  I  wus  urging  liiin  to 
take  fiirloiigli." 

"■  Wliy  didn't  lie?     It  miglit  have  saved  liim,"  asked  Ihden. 

"  I  Ijeliove  the  fourth  l>ahy  was  tlie  reason.  He  couldn't 
allord  it.     Had  to  stay  and  grill,  poor  chap." 

"  How  very  distressing,"  said  Mr.  liatcham.  "  T  suppose  the 
widow  will  1)0  able  to  live  on  her  ])ension':'  " 

"•  She  will  receive  no  pension,  sir.  Mr.  Hamilton  belonged 
to  the  Education  l)e})artnient,  which  is  uncovenauted.  In  the 
uncovcnanted  service  it  is  necessary  to  live  in  order  to  enjoy 
one's  pension,  and  that  is  the  reason  why  its  departments  add  so 
little  to  the  taxes." 

"  Ah,  well,"  said  Mr.  Batcham  rather  vaguely,  "  you  can't 
have  your  cake  and  eat  it  too.  I  should  consider  marriage  under 
those  conditions  an  improvidence,  and  I  don't  understand  people 
being  ill  in  this  climate.  I  think  it  must  be  largely  due  to  the 
imagination.  So  far  as  mif  testimony  is  worth  anvMiing,  I  find 
myself  much  benefited  by  it.  Thanks,  Browne,  I'll  have  Bass. 
Vm  not  afraid  of  it." 

Young  Browne  smiled  and  wistfully  drank  half  the  unsatis- 
factory contents  of  the  long  glass  by  his  plate. 

"  To  say  nothing,"  said  he,  in  mournful  reference  to  the  cli- 
mate, "  of  the  magnificent  thirst  it  engenders." 

Mr.  Sayter  joined  his  hands  together  at  the  finger  tips  and 
looked  at  Mr.  Jonas  Batcham,  M.  P.,  from  under  his  eyebrows 
in  a  way  which  was  certainly  impertinent,  oblivious  of  the  kit- 
mutgar  at  his  elbow  who  patiently  offered  him  iced  asparagus. 

"  I'm  perfectly  certain,"  said  he,  with  a  crispness  in  every 
syllable,  "  that  Mr.  Batcham  has  been  benefited  by  staying  six 
weeks  in  India.  If  he  stayed  six  years  he  would  doubtless  be 
more  benefited  still.     I  daresay,  as  he  says,  we  would  all  be  bene- 


(SAlIlli. 


THE  siMri.n  AJ)r/:x7'CA'i:S  ()/•  ./  MEM  SAN  in. 


203 


urging  him  to 

iiskcd  Helen. 
He   couldn't 

T  suppose  the 

Iton  belonged 
nted.  In  the 
rder  to  enjoy 
tnients  add  so 

y,  "you  can't 
larriago  under 
3rstand  })eopIe 
ely  duo  to  the 
yMiing,  I  find 
'11  have  ]5ass. 

f  the  unsatis- 
ce  to  the  di- 
nger tips  and 

lis  eyebrows 
IS  of  the  kit- 
asparagus. 

ess  in  every 
staying  six 

doubtless  be 

all  be  bene- 


> 


tited  if  it  were  not  for  our  imaginations,  it's  a  climate  that 
leaves  only  one  thing  to  be  desired,  and  if  some  peoj)le  say  that's 
a  eoflin,  that  is  clearly  their  imagination.  Tneovenanted  people 
have  a  way  of  dying  jnvtty  freely,  but  that's  out  of  sheer  per- 
verseness  to  get  more  furl(>ugh.  Most  of  them  go  for  ever  be- 
cause they  can't  arrange  it  any  other  way.  And  as  for  cholera, 
1  give  you  my  word  not  one  man  in  te?i  dies  of  cholera  out  here; 
they  go  off  with  typhoid  or  dysentery,  or  in  some  comfortable 
way  like  that,  and  probably  have  a  punkah  the  whole  time 
they're  ill." 

The  half-i)ast  nine  gun  boomed  from  the  fort,  and  Mr.  Hatch- 
am  started  nervously.  "  I  don't  know  why  it  is,"  said  he, 
"tliat  one  doesn't  accustom  one's  self  to  hearing  guns  in  India. 
I  suppose  it  is  some  association  with  the  Mutiny." 

"  Oh,  we'll  have  another  mutiny,"  Mr.  Sayter  remarked ; 
"  it's  quite  on  the  cards.  But  you  must  not  be  alarmed,  Mr. 
Hatcham.  It  won't  be,"  he  added  irrepressibly,  "  till  after  you 
go  home." 

The  conversation  turned  upon  light  literature,  and  Mr.  Batch- 
am  contributed  to  it  the  fact  that  he  understood  that  man 
Besant  was  fnaking  a  lot  of  money.  Helen  had  been  reading 
the  memoirs  of  Mdlle.  Bashkirtscff,  and  had  to  say  that  one  half 
she  didn't  understand,  and  the  other  half  she  didn't  like.  "  And 
when,"  said  Mr.  Sayter,  "  does  your  book  come  out,  Mr. 
Batcliam  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  said  that  I  was  writing  one,"  Mr.  Batcham  re- 
l)lied,  smiling  coyly. 

"  It  isn't  necessary,"  declared  young  Browne,  "  we  should  ex- 
pect a  book  from  you,  Mr.  Batcham,  as  a  matter  of  course." 

"  Oh,  well,  I  expect  I  shall  have  to  own  to  some  little  account 
of  my  experience,"  confessed  Mr.  Batcham.     "  My  friends  have 


204       '^'11'    ^l-'^II'll-    Ani-ENTURES   01-    A    MEMSAllUi. 


tl     ' 


k 

I 


urged  1110  to  do  sonu'tliin<^'  of  tlio  kind.  If  tlu'  illiistnitions  can 
be  j(ot  ready,  1  dare.say  it  will  be  out  in  time  to  catch  the  spring 
nuirket." 

"  Don't  forget  tlie  illustration  of  the  cobra  milking  the  cow," 
said  (Jeorge  Hrowne,  infected  by  Mr.  Sayter;  "it  will  add  a  great 
deal  to  the  interest  of  the  volume  without  detractiiiff  seriouslv 
from  its  reliability." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  liatcham,  "  I  haven't  got  a  photograph  of 
that,  I'm  sorry  to  say.  The  illustrations  will  be  entirely  repro- 
duced from  i)hotographs.  I've  got  a  beauty  of  the  Taj,  taken  by 
imignesium  light." 

"  Have  you  decided  on  a  title,  Mr.  Batcham  ?  "  Helen  inquired, 
playing  with  the  orange-blossom  in  her  finger-bowl. 

Mr.  Batcham  looked  carefully  round  him,  and  observed  that 
the  kitmutgars  liad  left  the  room.  "  Don't  mention  it,"  he  said, 
"because  somebody  else  may  get  hold  of  it,  but  1  think  I'll 
christen  the  book  either  '  My  Trot  Through  India,'  or  '  India,  Its 
Past,  Present,  and  Future.'  " 

"  Capital !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Sayter,  skipping  nimbly  to  hold 
back  the  purdah  for  the  exit  of  Mrs.  Browne.  "  Vou  can't  really 
dispense  with  either  title,  and  if  I  were  you  I  should  use  them 
both ! " 

A  little  later,  before  Mr.  Sayter  disappeared  into  his  brough- 
am, exploding  a  vast  yawn  among  the  wreaths  of  his  Trichi- 
nopoly,  Mr.  Batcham  shook  him  warmly  by  the  liand,  and  re-ex- 
pressed his  gratification  at  the  ojiportunity  of  meeting  so  repre- 
sentative a  gentleman,  to  whose  opinions  such  great  importance 
would  naturally  attach  itself.  "  Joking  apart,"  said  Mr.  Batch- 
am,  "the  candid  statement  of  your  views  upon  many  points 
this  evening  will  be  very  useful  to  me." 

"  I'm  so  glad  ! "  said  Mr.  Sayter. 


sAuin, 


'  Till-.    SIMPLL   AlU-EXrrRES   01-    A    Ml.MSAHlH,      205 


iistratioiis  can 
:ch  tliu  s|)riiig 


iii<,'  tliu  cow," 
ill  add  11  great 
ting  seriously 

•liotograph  of 
'iitircly  ropro- 
Taj,  taken  by 

elen  inquired, 

observed  tliat 
lU  it,"  he  said, 
t  1  think  I'll 

or  '  India,  Its 

nibly  to  liold 
m  can't  really 
)uld  use  them 

0  liis  brough- 
his  Trichi- 
d,  and  re-ex- 
ng  so  repre- 
importance 
Mr.  Batch- 
many  points 


4 


M 


I 


11 


CIIAPTKU   XVIII. 

KLP'X  HKOWXK  never  could  be  brought  to  understajid 
that  she  was  not  rich  with  live  hundred  rupees  a  month. 
Kvery  now  aiul  then  she  reduced  the  amount — reduced  it  indeed, 
with  the  rupee  at  one  and  twopence  I — to  pounds,  shillings,  and 
pence,  in  order  to  assure  herself  over  again  tliat  it  was  oidy  a 
little  less  than  the  entire  stijiend  of  the  C'anbury  rectory,  "and 
we  all  lived  upon  that,"  she  would  argue,  as  if  she  had  there  some- 
wliat  unanswerable.  It  was  to  her  a  source  of  continual  and 
lamentable  mystery  that  they  never  seemed  to  find  it  convenient 
to  open  a  bank  account — it  was  so  unwise  not  to  have  a  bank 
account — and  yet  there  was  always  what  George  Krowne  called  a 
"  negative  difficulty,"  always  something  to  be  paid  first.  On  the 
last  davs  of  everv  month  when  it  came  to  balancing  the  accounts 
and  finding  nothing  over,  Mrs.  Browne  regularly  cut  the  bawarchi 
six  pice  on  general  principles,  for  which  he  as  regularly  cjime 
prepared.  Kali  Bagh  cooked  nothing  better  tlian  his  jiccounts. 
Besides  this  she  had  her  evening  gloves  cleaned,  and  saved  the 
price  of  a  ticca  dhurzie,  which  is  at  least  eight  an.ias,  every  Sat- 
urday by  doing  the  family  darning,  and  this,  in  a  mem.sahib,  is 
saintly.  Certainly  the  Brownes  were  not  extravagant.  Helen 
used  to  maintain  that  the  remarkable  part  of  it  was  vegetables 
being  so  cheap,  but  there  was  probably  more  force  in  her  reflec- 
tion that  it  didn't  really  matter  much  about  getting  a  cauliflower 
for  a  penny  when  one's  ticca  gharries  came  to  three  pounds.     It 


i 


I     II 


'  I  "i 


206       THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

was  mucli  more  curious  to  observe  how  exactly  every  month  the 
Ikownes'  exjieiises  met  their  income  witli  i)erluips  just  a  trifle 
now  and  tlien  to  spare,  wliich  tliey  might  put  away  if  they  Hked, 
unreceipted,  to  be  a  nest-egg  for  a  comfortable  debt  in  the  near 
future — the  fact  being  that  Kasi  and  Kali  Bagh  and  the  rest 
knew  the  sahib's  tulab  as  well  as  they  knew  tiieir  own,  and  were 
all  good  at  arithmetic  to  the  splitting  of  a  pi.  It  is  perhaps  a 
tribute  to  the  perfection  of  their  skill  tluit  they  never  disturbed 
Helen's  idea  that  she  was  very  well  off.  When  the  rupees  disap- 
peared more  (juickly  than  usual,  she  thought  of  the  price  of  vege- 
tables and  was  convinced  that  retrenchments  were  possible  and 
should  soon  be  effected.  Next  month  Kasi  would  permit  himself 
to  forget  various  trifling  bills,  and  there  would  be  great  prosperity 
with  the  Brownes  for  a  fortnight.  But  invariablv  there  came  a 
time  of  reckoning  when  Kasi  demonstrated  that  the  income  was 
very  nearly  equal  to  the  outgo.  On  the  whole  Kasi  was  contented 
with  the  sahib's  present  pay,  having  great  faith  in  his  prospects 
of  promotion.  Barring  accidents,  Kasi's  speculations  upon  the 
financial  future  of  the  Brownes  were  very  perfectly  adjusted. 

It  was  the  elusive  bank  account  that  induced  them  to  listen 
to  the  Jack  Lovitts,  who  lived  in  Park-street  in  a  bigger  house 
than  they  could  afford.  "  We  can  perfectly  well  let  you  have  the 
top  flat,"  said  Mrs.  Jack  Lovitt  at  the  end  of  the  cold  weather, 
"  and  it  will  be  that  much  off  our  rent  besides  being  a  lot  cheaper 
for  you.  You  see  we  could  divide  the  mallie  and  the  sweeper," 
said  Mrs.  Lovitt,  enunciating  this  horror  quite  callously,  "and 
that  would  be  an  advantage.  Then  we  might  have  one  leg  of 
mutton  between  us,  you  know,  and  that  sort  of  thing — save  a  lot 
of  bazar." 

"  But  should  you  like  to  have  somebody  living  over  your 
head?  "  asked  Helen,  pondering  over  the  idea. 


SAIIIB. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTl'RES   OE  A    MEMSAIfin.      207 


sry  month  the 
3  just  a  trifle 

if  they  liked, 
»t  in  the  near 

and  the  rest 
»wn,  and  were 

is  perliaps  a 
ver  disturbed 
rupees  disap- 
priee  of  vege- 

l)ossible  and 
crmit  himself 
?at  prosperity 
there  came  a 
e  income  was 
ras  contented 
his  prospects 
ins  upon  the 

Ijusted. 
em  to  listen 
)ig2:er  house 
^ou  have  the 
old  weather, 

lot  cheajier 

le  sweeper," 

luslv,  "and 

SI       ' 

one  leg  of 
—save  a  lot 

over  your 


"Of  course  not,"  replied  Mrs.  Lovitt  candidly,  "who  would? 
But  if  we  mean  to  go  on  leave  next  year  we've  got  to  do  some- 
thing. Jack's  eight  hundred  simply  vanishes  in  our  haiuls. 
Last  month,  Helen  Browne,  our  bill  from  Peliti  alone  was  a 
hundred  and  ten — beast !  If  Jack  wouldn't  insist  on  ariviiiir  ice 
to  his  polo  ponies  I  think  we  migb^  get  on.  \\\\i  you  can't  reason 
with  him  about  it.  Ile'U  come  home  with  a  broken  neck  from 
tliat  polo  one  of  these  days.  And  we  haven't  earned  anything 
a})proaehing  a  decent  pension  yet,  and  my  com])lexion's  absolutely 
gone,"  added  this  vivacious  lady,  who  liked  saying  these  insincere 
tilings  to  her  "young  friend  Mrs.  Browne,"  wb'-  began  at  tliis 
time  to  be  amused  by  them. 

'^  I've  done  my  little  uttermost,"  ^Irs.  Lovitt  continued. 
"This  noujjat  is  filthv,  isn't  it?  I'll  never  leave  mv  dear  Peliti 
Mgain  !  "  The  ladies  were  tiffining  together  in  a  luxury  of  soli- 
tude.    "  I've  sold  three  frocks." 

"Xo!"  said  Helen.     "Which?" 

"  That  vieux  rose  brocade  that  I  got  out  from  home  for  the 
Drawing-Room — the  more  fool  I ! — and  that  gray  shimmery  crc'iie 
that  you  like;  and  anotlier,  a  mouse-coloured  sort  of  thing,  with 
gold  bands,  that  I  don't  think  you  know — I've  never  had  it  on. 
Frifri  sent  it  home  with  a  bill  for  a  hundred  and  tifty  if  you 
please — and  I  gave  her  the  foundation.  However,  I've  been  paid 
for  it,  and  Frifri  hasn't,  and  she  can  jolly  well  wait ! " 

"  What  did  you  get  for  it?  "  asked  Helen. 

"  Eighty-five— wasn't  I  lucky  ?  That  new  little  :^[rs.  Xiblit— 
.pite  or  indigo  or  something — heaps  of  money.  Lady  Blebbins 
bought  the  other  two  for  Julia.  She's  up  in  Allahabad,  you 
know,  where  the  fact  of  my  having  swaggered  around  in  tliem  all 
season  won't  make  any  difference.  What  a  pretty  little  flannel 
blouse  that  is  of  vours,  mv  dear — I  wish  1  could  afl'ord  one  like  it !" 


2o8        ^'^^^-    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


I,  .    <■■ 


"  It  cost  three  eight  altogether,"  said  Mrs.  Browne,  "  the 
dhurzie  made  it  last  week.  He  took  two  days,  but  I  think  he 
dawdled." 

"  Three  eight's  a  good  deal,  I  think,  for  a  blouse,"  returned 
Mrs.  Lovitt,  the  exj)erienced.  "  Dear  me,  what  a  horrible  thing 
it  is  to  be  poor!  And  nothing  but  boxes  in  that  upper  flat! 
Three  rooms  and  two  bath-rooms,  going,  going,  gone — I  wish  it 
were !     What  do  you  say,  Mrs.   Browne  ?     Ninety-five  rupees 

only !  " 

"  It's  cheap,"  said  Helen  ;  "  I'll  ask  George." 

She  did  ask  George,  at  the  shortest  possible  intervals  for 
three  days,  and  when  the  subject  had  been  allowed  to  drop  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  George  asked  iier.  It  became  the  supreme 
question,  and  the  consideration  they  devoted  to  it  might  have 
revised  the  Permanent  Settlement  or  decided  our  right  to  occupy 
the  Pamirs. 

There  were  more  pros  and  cons  than  I  have  patience  to  go 
into,  and  I  daresay  they  would  have  been  discussing  it  still,  if 
Mrs.  Browne  had  not  thought  fit  to  decline  her  breakfast  on  the 
morning  of  the  third  day.  Whereat  young  Browne  suspected 
fever — he  hoped  not  typhoid — but  the  place  certainly  smelt 
feverish,  now  that  he  came  to  smell  it — and  there  was  no  doubt 
that  it  would  be  an  economy  to  take  Mrs.  Lovitt's  flat,  and  forth- 
with they  took  it. 

Moving  house  in  India  is  a  light  affliction  and  but  for  a 
moment.  The  sahib  summoned  Kasi,  and  announced  to  him 
that  the  change  would  be  made  to-morrow,  "and  in  thy  hand 
all  things  will  be."  Kasi  received  particulars  of  tlie  address  in 
Park-street,  salaamed,  saying  "Very  good,"  and  went  away  more 
sorrowful  than  he  seemed,  for  he  was  comfortable  and  mighty 
where  he  was,  and  change  was  not  often  a  good  thing.     Besides, 


AH  IB. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIli.      209 


owne,  "  the 
I  think  he 

3,"  returned 
rrible  thing 
upper  flat ! 
! — I  wish  it 
-five  rupees 

itervals  for 
)  drop  for  a 
lie  supreme 
might  have 
t  to  occupy 

ence  to  go 
I  it  still,  if 
ast  on  the 

suspected 
inly   smelt 

no  doubt 
and  forth- 

)ut  for  a 

id   to  him 

thy  hand 

id  dress  in 

way  more 

d  mighty 

Besides, 


he  knew  Lovitt  sahib  that  he  had  a  violent  temper  and  repre- 
hensible modes  of  speech — it  might  not  be  good  to  come  often 
under  the  eye  of  Lovitt  sahib.  And  he  would  be  obliged  to  tell 
the  mallie  his  friend  that  it  would  be  to  depart,  which  would 
split  his  heart  in  two.  However,  it  was  the  sahib's  will  and 
there  was  nothing  to  say,  but  a  great  deal  to  do.  Moreover, 
there  might  be  backsheesh,  which  alleviated  all  things. 

Next  morning  the  Brownes  found  themselves  allowed  one 
table  and  two  chairs  for  breakfast  purposes,  and  six  coolies  sat 
without,  dusty  and  expectorant,  waiting  for  those.  Kasi,  at  the 
gate,  directed  a  departing  train,  each  balancing  some  portion  of 
their  worldly  goods  upon  his  head,  Kasi,  watchful  and  stern,  the 
protector  of  his  master's  property.  The  dining-room  was  dis- 
mantled, the  drawing-room  had  become  a  floor  space  enclosed  by 
hiirh  white  walls  with  nail  marks  in  them.  There  was  a  little 
heap  of  torn  paper  in  one  corner,  and  cobwebs  seemed  to  have 
been  spun  in  the  night  in  half  the  windows. 

"  It's  pure  magic  !  "  TIelen  exclaimed.  "  It's  to-day  week, 
and  I've  been  asleep,"  and  then  "  We've  been  awfully  happy 
here,  George," — an  illogical  statement  to  accompany  wet 
eyelashes. 

Even  while  they  sat  on  their  single  chairs  at  their  single 
table,  which  George  put  his  elbows  on,  to  secure  it  he  said,  the 
bedroom  furniture  decamped  with  many  footsteps,  and  after  the 
meal  was  over  there  was  nothing  left  to  testify  of  them  but  their 
hats  laid  conspicuously  on  a  sheet  of  paper  in  the  middle  of  the 
drawing-room  floor,  "  I  suppose,"  said  young  Browne,  "  they 
think  we've  got  brains  enough  to  carry  those  over  ourselves." 

Mrs.  Browne  put  hers  on  and  drove  her  husband  to  office. 
Then  she  shopped  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  finished  up  by 
coming  to  tiffin  with  me.     Then  she  repaired  to  Park-street, 


I  li  ■   !! 


I  l! 

IK 


I    !| 


2IO       THE    SLMPLE  ADVEXTCRES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

where  she  found  herself  ostji])li^hed  in  the  main,  with  Kasi  still 
superintending,  his  locks  escajjing  from  his  turban,  in  a  state  of 


THEIR   HATS    LAID   CONSI'K  TOrsLV   OX    A    SHEET    OK   PAPER. 

extreme  perspiration.     Then  she  made  Ji  dainty  afternoon  toilet 
with  great  comfort,  and  by  the  time  young  Browne  came  home 


5: 


.!:  ;li 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAI/IB.       2II 


to  tea  it  was  quite  ready  for  liiin  in  every  respect,  even  to  the 
wife  behind  the  teapot,  in  circumstances  which,  except  for  tlie 
pictures  and  the  bric-a-brac,  might  be  described  as  normal. 
And  of  course,  being  an  insensate  sahib,  he  congratuhited  liis 
wife — it  was  prodigious,  and  all  her  doing !  Kasi  was  also  com- 
mended, however,  and  the  praise  of  his  master  fell  pleasantly  on 
the  ear  of  Kasi,  who  immediately  added  another  rupee  to  the 
amount  he  meant  to  charge  for  coolie-hire.  Thus  is  life  allevi- 
ated in  India;  thus  do  all  its  material  cares  devolve  into  a  hun- 
dred brown  hands  and  leave  us  free  for  our  exalted  occupations 
or  our  noble  pleasure.  We  are  unencumbered  by  the  considera- 
tion of  so  much  as  a  button.  Tnder  these  beatitudes  the  average 
Anglo-Indian  career  ought  to  be  one  of  pure  spirit  and  intellect, 
but  it  is  not  so — not  singularly  so. 

"  What  we  must  be  thoroughly  on  our  guard  against,"  said 
young  Browne  in  the  top  flat  at  his  second  cup,  "  is  seeing  too 
much  of  the  Lovitts.  They're  not  a  bad  sort  if  you  keep  them 
at  a  proper  distance ;  I  don't  believe  for  an  instant  there's  any 
harm  in  little  Mrs.  Jack ;  but  it  won't  do  to  be  too  intimate. 
They'll  be  as  troublesome  as  sparrows  if  we  are." 

"There's  one  thing  we'll  have  to  look  out  for,"  said  Mr. 
Jack  Lovitt  in  the  bottom  flat  at  his  third  mnflin,  "and  that  is 
being  too  chummy  with  the  Brownes;  they're  all  riglit  so  long 
as  they  stay  upstairs,  but  we  won't  encourage  them  to  come 
down  too  often.  We'll  have  Mrs.  B.  gushing  all  over  the  place 
if  we  do.  They'll  have  to  understand  they've  only  rented  tlie 
top  flat." 

"They'll  always  know  what  we  have  for  dinner,"  romark(Hl 
the  spouse  in  the  top  flat. 

"  They'll  sec  every  soul  that  comes  to  the  house,"  said  the 
spouse  in  the  bottom  flat. 


i  I 


l|   I 


II 11 


;>;  1 


il  !    '*!'  i 


212       ^V/A'    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIH, 

"  It  isn't  the  slightest  concern  of  tlieirs,"  repHcd  the  lord 
upstairs. 

"  It's  absolutely  none  of  their  business,"  returned  the  lord 
downstairs. 

And  they  were  both  "  blowed "  if  they  would  tolerate  the 
slightest  interest  in  their  respective  affairs.  The  Brownes  con- 
cluded that  "  perhaps  once  a  month  "  would  be  often  enough  to 
ask  the  Lovitts  to  come  up  and  dine,  and  the  Lovitts  thought 
the  Brownes  might  come  in  to  tea  "once  in  three  weeks  or  so." 
Before  this  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of  entertaining  each 
other  rather  oftener,  but  then  they  were  not  under  the  same 
roof,  with  a  supreme  reason  for  establishing  distance.  ]\Irs. 
Browne  believed  that  on  the  whole  she  wouldn't  engage  Mrs. 
Levitt's  dhurzie — it  might  lead  to  complications ;  and  Mrs. 
Lovitt  fancied  she  had  better  not  offer  Helen  that  skirt-pattern 
— it  would  necessitate  endless  discussions  and  runnings  up  and 
down.  Mrs.  Lovitt  deliberately  arranged  to  go  up  to  see  Helen 
for  the  first  time  with  her  hat  and  gloves  on,  to  make  it  obvious 
that  the  call  should  be  formally  returned.  Helen  sent  down  a 
note,  beautifully  written  and  addressed,  to  ask  Mrs.  Lovitt  to 
come  to  tea  on  Wednesday  afternoon,  at  a  quarter  past  five. 
The  ladies  left  no  little  thing  undone,  in  fact,  that  would  help  to 
quell  a  tendency  to  effusion ;  they  arranged  to  live  as  remotely 
from  each  other  as  the  limits  of  No.  01,  Park-street,  permitted. 
The  Brownes  had  always  the  roof  and  habitually  sent  chairs  up 
there.     "  They  can't  say  we  haven't  rented  it,"  said  Helen. 

Their  precautions  not  to  be  offensive  to  each  other  were  still 
more  elaborate.  Mr.  Browne  ascertained  at  what  time  Mr. 
Lovitt  went  to  office,  and  made  a  habit  of  starting  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  earlier.  Mrs.  Lovitt,  observing  that  the  Brownes  were 
fond  of  walking  in  the  compound  in  the  evening,  walked  there 


A II  IB. 

ied  tlie  lord 

ed  tlie  lord 

tolerate  tlie 

•ownes  con- 

1  enough  to 

tts  thought 

eks  or  so." 

iiiing  each 

*  the  same 

mce.     :Mrs. 

igage  Mrs. 

and    Mrs. 

irt-pattern 

igs  up  and 

see  Helen 

it  obvious 

t  down  a 

ovitt  to 

last  five. 

d  help  to 

remotelv 

ermitted. 

lairs  up 

n. 

ere  still 
me  Mr. 
arter  of 
es  were 
3d  there 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTCRLS   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


213 


always  in  the  morning.  Neither  of  them  would  give  any  orders 
to  the  mallie,  whom  they  jointly  paid,  for  fear  of  committing  an 
unwarrantable  interference,  and  that  functionary  grew  fat  and 
lazy,  while  the  weeds  multiplied  in  the  gravel  walks.  Helen 
even  went  so  far  as  to  use  the  back  staircase  to  avoid  a  possible 
encounter  at  the  front  door,  but  young  Browne  disapproved  of 
til  is.  lie  Ijelieved  in  abating  no  jot  or  tittle  of  their  lawful 
claims.  "  Use  the  staircase  freely,  my  dear,"  said  he,  "  but  do 
not  engage  in  conversation  at  the  foot  of  it." 
\  They  assumed  a  bland  ignorance  of  each  other's  affairs,  more 

discreet  than  veracious.  When  Mrs.  Lovitt  mentioned  that  they 
had  had  a  lot  of  people  to  dinner  the  night  before,  Helen  said, 
'"'Had  you?"  as  if  she  had  not  heard  at  least  half  a  dozen  car- 
riages drive  up  at  dinner  time ;  as  if  she  had  not  decided,  she 
and  George,  indifferent  upon  the  roof,  that  the  trap  which  drove 
oft'  so  mucli  later  than  the  others  must  have  been  Jimmy  Forbes's. 
And  they  would  be  as  much  surprised,  these  two  ladies,  at  meet- 
ing anywhere  else  at  dinner  as  if  they  had  not  seen  each  other's 
name  inscribed  in  the  peon  book  that  brought  the  invitations, 
and  remarked  each  of  the  other,  at  the  time,  "  It  seems  to  me  we 
see  enough  of  those  people  at  home." 

They  were  a  little  ridiculous,  but  on  the  whole  they  were 
very  wise  indeed,  and  the  relations  that  ensued  were  as  polite 
and  as  amiable  as  possible.  It  was  like  living  on  the  edge  of  a 
volcano,  taking  the  precaution  of  throwing  a  pail  or  two  of 
water  down  every  day  or  two.     And  nothing  happened. 


li 
'i  I 


nil  in  i 


I  ; 

:  1  i 


I  u 


!  f* 


214 


77//:-    SIMPLE   AD  VEX  TURKS   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

0™iNG  happened.  Thus  for  three 
montlis,  tliree  hot  weather  montlis. 
The  pimkah  waUahs  came  and  min- 
istered to  the  sahiblok  with  creak- 
ings  and  snorings  that  cannot  be 
uttered,  much  less  spelled.  The 
mango-crop  was  gathered  and  sold, 
the  toimi  inuchies  swam  up  the  river 
Hooghly,  and  were  caught  and  oooked  in  their  appointed  sea- 
son. The  Viceroy  and  his  shining  ones  went  to  Simla,  and 
a  wave  of  flirtation  swept  over  the  Himalayas.  The  shops 
put  up  grass-tatties  for  the  wind  to  blow  through,  and  the 
customers  who  wont  in  were  much  cooler  than  the  coolies  who 
stood  outside  throwing  water  over  them.  The  brain-fever  bird 
spoke — he  does  not  sing — all  day  long  in  the  banyan-tree — 
^^Ponk!  Ponk!''''  all  day  long  in  the  thickest  part  of  the 
banyan-tree,  where  nobody  can  see  or  shoot  him.  He  comes 
and  stays  with  the  hot  weather,  a  feathered  thing  accursed. 
The  morning  paper  devoted  itself  exclusively  to  publishing  the 
"  Gazette  "  notices  of  leave  and  the  lists  of  intending  passengers 
by  P.  and  0.,  and  week  after  week  the  tide  bore  great  ships  out- 
ward, every  cabin  occupied  by  persons  connected  with  more  or 
less  disordered  livers,  going  home  for  three  or  six  or  twelve 
months'  repairs.     You  could  count  on  your  fingers  the  people 


A II IB, 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTCRES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


215 


s   for  three 
ler    months, 
le  and  min- 
with  creak- 
;  cannot   be 
elled.      The 
id  and  sold, 
up  the  river 
pointed  sea- 
Simla,  and 
The   shops 
1,  and   the 
coolies  who 
fever  bird 
1  van -tree — 
art  of  the 
He  comes 
accursed, 
ilishing  the 
passengers 
ships  out- 
h  more  or 
or  twelve 
;he  people 


i 


''"1 


you  knew  in  the  Ked  Road.  Kasi  asked  for  an  umbrolla ;  re- 
s})t'ctfuliy  as  a  right,  it  was  tlie  (lustur  for  tlie  sahil)  to  provide 
an  umbrella.  The  ayah  begged  for  an  umbrella,  humbly  as  a 
favour;  she  had  far  to  come  and  the  sun  was  '■'  (Uj  k'ninafik.''''  * 
The  kitmutgar  asked  for  an  umbrella,  not  because  he  had  the 
slightest  idea  that  he  would  get  it,  but  because  it  was  generally 
more  blessed  to  ask  than  not  to  ask.  The  clndera  arrived  i)unc- 
tuallv,  and  increased  the  native  death-rate,  with  its  custonuirv 
iudustrv.  The  Lovitts  lost  a  bearer  from  tiiis  cause,  and  a 
valuable  polo  pony  from  heat  apoi)lexy.  Tlie  latter  bereave- 
ment was  in  the  paper.  The  oil  exuded  more  profusely  still 
u{)on  the  adipose  tissue  that  encloses  the  soul  of  a  baboo,  and 
Calcutta  flamed  with  the  red  flowers  of  the  gold  mohur  ti'ce, 
panting  nightly,  when  they  were  all  put  out,  under  the  cool  south 
wind  from  the  sea. 

Xeither  the  Lovitts  nor  the  Brownes  left  C*alcutta ;  thev  were 
imiong  the  peo])le  you  counted  on  your  fingers.  There  is  very 
little  to  talk  about  in  the  hot  weather,  and  the  fact  that  nothing 
had  happened  was  discussed  a  good  deal,  in  the  dead  })i"ivacy  of 
the  roof  or  the  lower  veranda.  Both  the  top  flat  aiul  the  bottom 
flat  thought  it  had  managed  admirably,  aiul  congratidated  itself 
accordingly.  That  nothing  should  have  hapj)ened  caused  them 
to  rise  considerably  in  each  other's  esteem — there  wore  so  few 
people  living  under  one  roof  in  Calcutta  who  were  able  to  say  it. 
They  told  society  how  agreeable  they  fouiul  it  to  live  with  each 
other,  and  society  repeated  it,  so  that  the  Brownes  hoard  of  the 
Lovitts'  satisfaction,  and  the  Lovitts  heard  of  the  Brownes'. 
Indeed,  there  came  a  time  when  the  Brownes  aiul  the  Lovitts 
thought  almost  as  much  of  each  other  as  they  did  before  they 
lived  together. 

*  Like  fire. 


'•■I" 


if 
I   1 


l\ 


•  <; 


11 


W 


ri 


2i6       ^V/A    S/. )//'/./-:  ADVKXTURES  OF  A    MEMSAUJH. 

It  hud  been  iin  extinct  volciino  after  all,  and  they  stopju'd 
throwiiifj  water  down.  Mrs.  Lovitt,  by  degrees,  became  easily 
confidential  again,  and  told  Helen  among  other  things  that  editied 
her,  exactly  what  they  were  saying  at  the  clnb  about  Mrs.  Lush- 
ington  and  the  (Jeneral's  A.  1).  C,  Mrs.  Lovitt's  version  coming 
straight  from  Jimmy  Forbes,  and  being  absolutely  correct. 
Helen  being  without  a  confidential  male  admirer  upon  these 
matters — husbands  kept  them  notoriously  to  themselves — had 
not  the  wherewithal  to  exchange ;  but  she  borrowed  the  Lovitts' 
khansamah  to  make  some  cocoanut  creams,  which  was  going  a 
great  deal  further.  Wlien  the  Brownes'  i)ony  was  laid  up  with 
the  sun,  threatening  vertigo,  Jack  Lovitt  took  young  Browne  to 
ofllice  very  sociably  in  his  cart ;  and  when  the  Lovitts  ran  up  to 
Darjiling  on  ten  days'  casual  leave,  the  Brownes  looked  after 
"  the  littlest  black  and  tan  in  Calcutta,"  and  took  it  out  for  a 
drive  every  day.  They  dined  and  lunched  and  shopped  more 
and  more  often  together,  and  ^Irs.  Lovitt  knew  exactly  how  many 
topsy  muchiea  Mrs.  Browne  got  for  eight  annas. 

It  was  just  at  this  very  favourable  point  that  the  difficulty 
about  ^L'.  Lovitt's  unmarried  sister  arose.  Mr.  Lovitt's  unmar- 
ried sister  had  been  shipped  six  months  before  to  an  up-country 
relation,  and  having  made  no  use  whatever  of  her  time  in  Cawn- 
pore,  was  now  to  be  transferred  to  Calcutta  as  a  final  experiment. 
Mrs.  Lovitt  wanted  a  room  for  her  unmarried  sister-in-law, 
wanted  Helen's  dining-room.  It  was  a  serious  difficulty,  and  the 
Lovitts  and  the  Brownes  in  the  plenitude  of  their  confidence  and 
good-will  agreed  to  surmount  it  by  "chumming," — living  together 
and  dividing  the  bulk  of  the  household  expenses — a  form  of  ex- 
istence largely  supported  in  Calcutta. 

In  the  beginning,  chumming  lends  itself  vastly  to  expansion, 
and  the  Brownes  and  the  Lovitts  expanded  to  the  utmost  verge. 


MSAJ//B. 

1(1  they  stopj)t'il 
,   beciinie  easily 
iiigstlmteditied 
loiit  ^Irs.  Lusli- 
version  coming 
)lutely   correct, 
•er   upon  tliese 
lemselves— liad 
'ed  tlie  Lovitts' 
ch  was  going  a 
as  laid  up  with 
ung  JJrowne  to 
•vitts  ran  up  to 
's  looked  after 
ok  it  out  for  a 
shopped  more 
ctly  how  many 

the  difficulty 

ovitt's  unnuir- 

lu  up-country 

ime  in  Cawn- 

experiment. 

sister-in-law, 

ulty,  and  the 

)nfideuce  and 

I'mg  together 

form  of  ex- 

0  expansion, 
tmost  verge. 


/•///:    SIMPLE   ADVEXrCKES   01-    A    MEMSAIllH, 


217 


They  forgot  the  happy  result  of  past  disci-etions;  they  became  a 
united  family,  no  longer  a  top  and  a  bottom  llat.  Tiiey  pooled 
their  domestic  resources — the  soup-plates  were  .Mrs.  iiovitt's,  the 
dessert-knives  were  Mrs.  Hrowiu-'s.  They  consulted  each  other's 
tastes  pressingly.  They  had  brisket  always  on  Saturday  night 
because  "Jack"  liked  cold  brisket  for  breakfast  on  Sunday  morn- 
ing, and  mutton  twice  a  week  because  young  iirowne  had  a  weak- 
ness for  caper  sauce,  ^^rs.  f^ovitt  sent  away  her  cook — a  crown- 
ing act  of  grace — and  Kali  Ragh  reigned  in  his  stead.  It  was  all 
peace  and  fraternity,  and  the  sahibs  sat  together  in  long  praise 
of  each  other's  cigars  every  evening,  while  the  memsahibs  upstairs 
discussed  their  mutual  friends  and  sank  deeper  into  each  other's 
alTections.  Indeed,  in  little  Mrs.  Lovitt's  Helen  had  absolutely 
no  rival  except  Jimmy  Forbes,  the  black  ami  tan,  and  Mr.  Lovitt. 
They  saw  a  good  deal  of  Mr.  Forbes  naturally,  and  the  inter- 
esting and  uiuque  position  in  the  house  occupied  by  tluit  gentle- 
man was  revealed  to  Helen  with  all  the  force  of  an  Aufrlo-Indian 
experience.  lie  was  nearly  always  there,  and  when  he  hadn't 
been  there  he  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  an  account  of  himself  as 
having  been  elsewhere.  It  was  expected  of  him,  and  much  l)e- 
side.  Helen  decided  that  he  couldn't  be  described  as  a  "tame 
cat"  in  the  family,  because  the  position  of  a  tame  cat  is  an  ir- 
responsible one,  and  Mr.  Forbes  had  many  responsibilities.  If 
Mrs.  Levitt's  racquet  went  ^\fut'"  *  it  was  Jimmy  who  had  it  re- 
strung  for  her.  When  a  new  theatrical  company  came  sailing 
up  from  Ceylon,  Jimmy  went  on  its  opening  night  to  report, 
and  if  it  were  good  enough  to  waste  an  evening  on,  he  took  the 
Lovitts — generally  botli  of  them— later.  If  the  roof  leaked,  or 
the  servants  misbehaved,  Mrs.  Lovitt  complained  to  Jimmy  quite 


15 


*  To  ruin. 


I    i 


m 


1„ 


2i8       77/ A"    SlMPl.E   ADVEXTUKES   OE  A    MEMSAIUn. 

as  often  !iH  ti)  .liuik,  and  .Jiniinv  saw  to  it.  When  Mrs.  Lovitt 
wanted  sonio  Burnu'si'  carvings,  .Jimmy  arningod  it  at  the  jail, 
wlioro  the  cajjtivc  l^irnu'sc  carve,  and  wlu'ii  tliat  lady  decided 
that  she  would  like  to  sell  her  victoria  and  bnv  a  cabriolet, 
Jimmy  advertised  it  in  TItv  En(jl\s}imnn  and  made  the  bargain. 
In  fact  Mr.  Forbes  relieved  Mr.  Lovitt  of  more  than  half  the 
duties  pertaining  to  his  oflicial  position,  of  wliich  kindness  the 
latter  gentleman  was  not  insensible.  Nor  could  anybody  say 
that  little  Mrs.  Lovitt  was.  She  nursed  Jimmy  Forbes  when  he 
was  ill,  scolded  him  when  he  was  inii)rudent,  and  advised  him  on 
the  subject  of  his  clothes.  1  don't  know  that  she  ever  put  his 
necktie  straight,  but  she  never  would  allow  him  to  wear  anything 
but  blue  ones,  and  made  a  point  of  his  throwing  away  all  his 
high  (collars — the  turned  down  ones  suited  him  so  much  better. 
She  did  not  overload  him  with  benellts,  but  at  Christmas  and  on 
his  birthday  she  always  gave  him  some  little  thing  with  a  per- 
sonal association,  a  pair  of  slippers,  some  initialled  luindker- 
chiefs,  a  new  })hotograph  of  herself,  generally  taken  with  the 
littlest  black  and  tan  in  Calcutta. 

Thus  tliey  made  no  secret  of  their  affection  ;  it  had  the  can- 
dour of  high  noon.  Thev  called  each  other  Jimmv  aiul  Jennv 
with  all  publicity.  When  Jimmy  went  home  on  three  months' 
leave,  Jennie  told  all  her  friends  that  she  was  simply  desolated. 
She  declared  to  Jimmy  and  to  the  world  that  she  was  a  mother 
to  this  young  man,  and  no  mother  could  have  walked  and  danced 
and  driven  more  self-sacrificingly  with  her  son.  Mrs.  Lovitt 
was  at  least  three  years  younger  than  her  "Jimmy-boy,"  but 
that,  in  cases  of  adoption,  is  known  to  be  immaterial.  In 
periods  of  absence  they  wrote  to  each  other  regularly  twice  a 
week,  and  Jimmy  never  forgot  to  send  kind  regards  to  Jack. 
Their  manner  to  each  other  was  conspicuous  for  the  absence  of 


m  Mrs.  Lovitt 
it  at  the  jail, 
t  ladv  <leei(lc<l 
iiy  a  cahriolot, 
Ic  tlio  bargain, 
than  lialf  the 
li  kindness  the 
1  anybody  say 
''orbes  when  lie 
id  vised  liini  on 
le  ever  put  his 
wear  anvthinj; 
g  away  all  his 
10  nuich  better, 
ristnias  and  on 
ng  with  a  per- 
illed liandker- 
iken  with    the 

t  had  the  can- 
ny and  Jenny 
Ithree  months' 
l)ly  desolated. 
Iwas  a  mother 
d  and  danced 
^frs.  Lovitt 
v-bov,"  but 
naterial.  In 
larly  twice  a 
,rds  to  Jack. 
le  absence  of 


77//-:   SI  MP  1. 1:   AnVEM'l'KliS  01-    A    MEMSAlllH. 


219 


anvthing  foolish  or  awkward  or  constrained — it  was  above  cni- 
barrassinent,  it  spoke  of  a  secure  footing  and  an  untroubled  mind, 
Mrs.  iiovitt  lectured  Mr.  Forbes,  and  Mr.  Korlics  rcbukiMl  Mrs. 
Lovitt  witli  a  simplicity  and  good  humour  that  produced  a  kind 
of  astonishment  in  the  sj)ectator,  who  looked  ai)(»ut  her  in  vain 
for  a  formula  of  criticism.  "  Mo,"  Mr.  Forbes  would  sav, ''  vou'd 
i)etter  not  call  on  Mrs.  Lushingf  :'\.  It's  all  right  for  nu'  to  go, 
of  course,  but  \\\  rather  vou  didiTt  know  her."  And  Mrs. 
Lovitt  would  poutingly  ac(iuiesce.  When  Tertium  t^uiddism 
takes  this  form,  what  is  there  to  sav? 

'  SI 

Mrs.  Lovitt's  ollicial  lord,  at  all  events,  found  verv  littU^  to 
say.  He  like(l  Forbes  himself  extremely — ('aj)ital  fellow — aw- 
fully clever  chap — and  admitted  him  into  full  communion  as  a 
member  of  the  family  in  good  and  regular  staiuling,  with  a  pla- 
cidity which  many  husbands  doubtless  envied  him.  ^Phe  gentle- 
men were  not  brothers  or  even  brothers-in-law,  the  relation  was 
one  too  delicately  adjusted  to  come  under  any  commonly  recog- 
nised description;  but  there  was  a  kiiul  of  fraternity  in  it  which 
Mrs.  Lovitt  seemed  to  establish,  with  tacit  limitations  whch 
established  themselves.  The  limitations  were  concerne<I  with 
impropriety — in  the  general  sense.  It  is  certain  that  there  were 
no  occasions  a  deux  when  Mr.  Forbes  felt  out  of  it  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Lovitt — they  had  no  priv.icy  to  speak  of  which  Jimmy  was 
not  welcome  to  share.  In  family  matters  Mr.  Lovitt  treated 
y[v.  Forbes  much  as  a  valued  riuler-Secretary.  The  two  men 
were  calling  upon  me  one  Sunday,  and  I  inquired  of  Mr.  Lovitt 
whether  his  wife  were  going  to  ^[rs.  Walter  Luff's  concert  for 
the  East  Indian  Self-IIelp  Association.  "Ton  my  word,"  he 
said,  "I  don't  know.  Forbes  will  tell  you."  Mrs.  Lovitt  had 
frequent  occasion  to  mention  these  amicable  conditions  to  her 
friends.     "My  husband  thinks  the  world  of  Jimmy  Forbes,"  she 


I      \i 


\\ 


I     I 


220 


////■:    SIMPI.F.    ADl'l-.XrrRES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIR. 


often  said,  "and  Jimmy  is  porfectly  devoted  to  him."  In  mo- 
ments of  intimacy  after  tiflin  witli  Mrs.  Browne,  slie  was  fond  of 
com])aring-  the  two.  "  .Jimmy  is  a  good  deal  tlie  cleverer,"  slie 
would  say  judicially,  "but  Jack  is  much  the  better  tempered, 
poor  dear,  and  his  looks  leave  nuth\n(j  to  be  desired,  in  my 
opinion.     Hut  then  1  always  did  spoil  Jack." 

When  Miss  Josephine  i^ovitt  arrived,  tall  aiul  vigorous,  with 
a  com})lexion  fresh  from  the  school-room,  full  of  bubbling 
laughter,  and  already  made  fully  aware  of  herself  by  six  months' 
diligent  spurning  of  nice  little  subalterns,  who  thought  her  a 
Juno  of  tremendously  good  form,  these  ladies  had  further  con- 
Hdences.  Mrs.  Lovitt  initiated  them  by  asking  Helen  if  she 
didn't  think  it  would  be  just  the  thing  for  Jimmy,  anil  in  the 
discussion  which  followed  it  appeared  that  Mrs.  Lovitt  had 
often  tried  to  nuirry  Jimmy  off — she  was  sure  he  would  be  much 
hai)pier  married — but  hitherto  unavailingly.  No  one  knew  the 
trouble  she  had  taken,  the  efTorts  she  had  made,  ^Frs.  Lovitt 
couldn't  understand  it,  for  it  was  oidy  a  matter  of  picking  and 
choosing,  and  Jimmy  wasn't  shy.  "  I've  argued  it  out  with  him 
a  score  of  times,"  she  said,  "  but  I  can't  get  the  least  satisfac- 
tion.    Men  are  queer  aninuUs." 

Helen  agreed  that  Mr.  Forbes  ought  to  be  married.  It  was 
so  much  her  opinion  that  she  had  to  be  careful  not  to  argue 
too  emphatically.  It  seemed  to  Mrs.  Browne  that  there  were 
particular  as  well  as  general  grounds  for  ap])roving  such  an 
idea,  and  ^liss  Josephine  Lovitt  struck  her  also  as  its  brilliant 
apotheosis.  "  Josie's  a  nice  girl,"  declared  Mrs.  Lovitt,  "  and  a 
great  deal  cleverer  than  she  pretends  to  be.  And  Jack  would 
like  it  above  all  things.  But  it's  too  nice  to  hope  for,"  and  Mrs. 
Lovitt  sighed  with  the  resignation  that  is  born  of  hope  deferred. 

Helen  reported  the  matter  duly  to  George,  who  laughed  in 


^Aiim, 


THE    SIMPLE  .WI'EXirA'ES   OE  A    MEMSAUin.      321 


m."  In  mo- 
\  wjis  fond  of 
'levercr,"  she 
T  tempered, 
sired,  in    my 

gorous,  with 
t)f    bnbblinn: 

six  montlis' 
ouglit  lier  a 
further  con- 
lelen  if  she 
,  anil  in  tlie 

Lovitt  had 
idd  he  much 
le  knew  tlie 

^Trs.  Lovitt 
licking  and 
lit  with  liim 
ast  satisfac- 

ed.  It  was 
3t  to  argue 
tliere  were 
ig  such  an 
ts  brilliant 
itt,  "  and  a 
Jack  would 
"  and  l\rrs. 
»e  deferred, 
laughed  in 


i 


a  ribald  manner  about  Mrs.  Lovitt's  intentions,  and  would  hear 
nothing  of  the  advisability  of  the  match,  as  men  never  will.  So 
she  was  not  encouraged  to  suggest  anything  of  co-operation  on 
her  own  part.  Indeed,  she  was  hardly  conscious  of  such  an 
idea,  but  the  married  wonum's  instiiu't  was  already  awake  in 
her,  and  she  was  quite  i)re])ared  to  do  anything  she  could  to 
further  Mrs.  Lovitt's  benevolent  design.  It  should  be  fur- 
tiiered,  Helen  thought,  in  the  interests  of  the  normal  and  the 
orthodox. 

Opportunities  did  not  immediately  occur,  because  Mrs.  Lovitt 
took  them  all  herself.  She  gave  tennis  parties  at  the  Saturday 
club,  and  nuide  uj)  sets  so  that  3h".  Forbes  aiul  Miss  Lovitt 
])layed  together.  AVhen  ^Ir.  Forbes  sang  "•  The  Bogie  Man  ""  to 
them  all  after  dinner  she  nuide  Josephine  ])Iay  his  accompani- 
ment to  save  her  "  rheunuitic!  "  finger-joints.  .Iose))hine  might 
teach  Jimmy  "JIalma" — she  was  much  too  stupid  to  learn — 
she  would  talk  to  ^Fr.  I^rowne.  All  this  (piite  shamelessly, 
rather  with  an  air  of  conscious  rectitude,  of  child-like  lunvvtd. 
It  was  the  old  thing,  Jimmy  Forbes  thought,  over  his  peaceful 
private  cigar;  it  amused  her  to  do  it,  it  always  luul  amused  lu'r 
to  do  it.  Ik'fore  he  had  generally  resented  It  a  good  deal;  this 
time  he  resented  it  too,  by  Jove,  hut  not  so  much.  After  all, 
why  should  he  resent  it — deuced  bad  policy ;  it  only  encour- 
aged the  little  woman  to  go  on  with  this  sort  of  game.  And  for 
the  first  time  in  ^Fr.  Forbes's  dawning  experience  of  womankind 
it  occurred  to  him  that  it  might  be  advisable  under  some  cir- 
cumstances  not  to  sulk.  Tie  wouldn't  sulk — he  would  teach  the 
little  woman  a  lesson.  It  wouldn't  be  a  bad  thing  to  do.  IV'- 
sides,  ^Fiss  Lovitt  was  rjither  amusing,  and  no  fool  either;  siu' 
wouldn't  misunderstand  things.  And  Mr.  F-^orbes  finished  his 
cigar  with  the  conviction  that  such  an  experiment  would   be 


V.._J 


JO>5EPlIINE    MKJIIT    TKACll    .IIMMY    "  IIALMA. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIUB. 


22  ^ 


^> 


absolutely  safe  so  far  as  the  girl  was  concerned — of  course,  he 
was  bound  to  think  of  the  girl — and  more  or  less  agreeable. 

A  little  later  Helen  coniided  to  (Jeorge  that  she  really 
wouldn't  be  one  bit  surprised  if  something  came  of  it ;  Jack 
Lovitt  renuirked  to  his  wife  that  Forbes  seemed  rather  taken 
with  Josie,  and  he  was  quite  prejjared  to  give  them  his  blessing ; 
and  Mrs.  Lovitt  replied  that  it  would  be  lovely,  wouldn't  it,  but 
she  was  afraid  it  was  only  temporary,  adding  ratlier  vaguely  that 
Jimmy  Forbes  wasn't  a  bit  like  other  men.  On  the  whole  it 
wouldn't  be  unsuitable,  but  it  was  a  pity  Josie  was  so  tall — she 
overtopped  him  by  about  a  foot — a  tall  woman  and  a  little 
man  did  look  so  idiotic  together.  That  evening  ^Frs.  liOvitt 
accompanied  "The  Bogie  Man"  without  any  reference  to  her 
rheumatic  finger-joints. 

It  was  at  this  juncture — when  any  lady  of  discretion  living 
in  the  same  house  would  have  been  looking  on  in  silent  joy, 
witho'  lifting  a  finger — that  Helen  found  herself  vielding 
to  the  tem})tation  of  furthering  matters,  so  successfully,  you 
understand,  was  Mr.  Forbes  making  liis  experiment.  Here  a 
little  and  there  a  little  Mrs.  Browne  permitted  herself  to  do 
what  she  could,  and  opportunities  occurred  to  an  extent  which 
inspired  and  delighted  her.  She  discovered  herself  to  be  a  per- 
son of  wonderful  tact,  and  the  discovery  wo  doubt  stimulated 
her,  though  it  must  be  said  that  circumstances  put  themselves 
very  readily  at  her  disposal.  ^Ers.  Lovitt,  for  one  thing,  had 
gradually  retired  from  the  generalship  of  the  situation,  becom- 
ing less  and  less  sanguine  of  its  issue  as  Helen  became  more  and 
more  hopeful.  8he  even  had  a  little  confidential  conversation 
with  Josephine,  in  which  she  told  that  young  lady  that  though 
Jimmy  was  a  dear  good  fellow  and  she  had  always  been  able  to 
depend  upon  him  to  be  kind   to  any  friends  of  hers,  she  was 


>24 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTCRES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


--4L 


afraid  he  was  not  a  person  to  be  taken  altogetlier  scriviif<Uj. 
Josie  would  understand.     And  Josie  did  understand  quite  well. 

As  to  Mr.  Forbes  himself,  his  ex])erinient  had  succeeded. 
There  was  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  little  woman  had  been 
taught  a  lesson ;  anyone  could  see  that  she  had  learnt  it  remark- 
ably well.  Yet  he  continued  to  instruct  her,  he  did  not  with- 
draw  the  experiment,  lie  found  it  interesting,  and  not  exclu- 
sively in  its  eifect  upon  Mrs.  Lovitt.  Miss  Josephine  found  it 
interesting  too.  She  thought  she  would  like  to  hand  Mr.  Forbes 
back  to  her  little  sister-in-law,  to  hand  him  back  a  little  dam- 
aged, perhaps.  This  was  doubtless  very  naughty  of  Miss  Jo- 
sephine, but  not  unnatural  under  the  circumstances.  It  was 
only,  after  all,  that  she  did  not  nuike  a  good  cat's  i)aw. 

And  thus  it  went  on,  to  be  bi'icf — for  this  is  not  a  chronicle 
of  the  affair  of  Jimmy  Forbes  and  ^Nfrs.  Lovitt's  sister-in-law,  the 
which  any  gossip  of  Calcutta  will  give  you  at  great  lengtli  and 
detail — until  the  Brownes  asked  Miss  Josephine  Lovitt  and  ^Mr. 
Forbes  to  go  with  them  to  see  ^Ir.  Wvlde  de  Vinton,  assisted  bv 
a  scratch  company,  ])erf()rm  HainJii  in  the  opera  house,  on  a 
Saturday  evening.  Hitherto  Mr.  Forbes's  Saturday  evenings  had 
not  been  his  own,  they  had  been  ^frs.  T^ovitt's.  She  had  estab- 
lished a  peculiar  claim  to  be  amused  on  Saturday  evenings — they 
were  usually  consecrated  to  long  talks  of  a  semi-sei.timental  or- 
der, which  Jack  Lovitt  could  not  possibly  have  understood  even 
if  he  had  been  there.  Therefore  wlien  ^[r.  Forbes  showed  ^frs. 
Lovitt  Helen's  note  and  stated  his  intention  of  accepting,  it  was 
in  the  nature  of  a  finality. 

I  am  not  interested  in  deciding  whether  it  was  from  purely 
conscientious  motives  that  ^fiss  Josephine  TiOvitt,  having  dis- 
covered !Mr.  Forbes  to  have  sustained  considerable  damage,  re- 
frained from  handing  liim  back  to  Mrs.  Lovitt.     All  T  wish  to 


I  SAHIB. 

:lier  serioudij. 
iiicl  quite  well, 
lad  succeeded, 
lum  luid  beeu 
-rut  it  remark- 
did  not  witli- 
ud  not  exclu- 
liiue  found  it 
lid  Mr.  Forbes 
^  u  little  dani- 
'  of  Miss  Jo- 
iices.  It  was 
>aw. 

)t  a  clirouicle 

ter-in-la\v,  the 

'at  leui(tli  and 

)vitt  and  Mr. 

11,  assisted  by 

house,  on  a 

evenings  had 

le  had  estab- 

enings — tliey 

itimental  or- 

erstood  even 

showed  ^Frs. 

pting,  it  was 

from  purely 
having  dis- 
damage,  re- 

Vll  T  wish  to 


\ 


THE   SIMPLE   A1)\-EXTCRES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB.      225 

establish  is  that  the   Hrownes  did  not  leave  No.  Gl,  i'ark-street 
until  quite  three  weeks  after  the  engagement  was  announced. 


1^  MH. 


MISS   JosiI'lllNi;    I.OVITT    Ki;KKAlM:it    IKO.M    HANDING    IIIM    HACK   TD  MKS.  I.OVITT. 

Mrs.  Lovitt  was  obliged  to  wait  until  they  found  a  house.  And 
of  course  their  going  had  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  dear 
Jusie's  engagement — ^frs.  TiOvitt  made  that  match,  and  was  very 


226       THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


!. 


proud  of  it.  The  incident  that  brought  about  their  misunder- 
standing witli  the  Brownes  was  tlie  merest  trifle,  Mrs.  Lovitt 
would  tell  you  if  you  knew  her  well  enough,  the  merest  trifle. 
They,  the  Lovitts,  had  asked  the  Honourable  Mr.  Justice  Lamb 
of  the  High  Court  to  dinner  on,  say,  Friday  of  next  week,  llis 
lordship  was  suffering  very  much  from  the  weather  when  the  in- 
vitation came,  and  declined  it,  fabricating  another  engagement 
as  even  their  lordships  will.  Mrs.  Browne  and  Mrs.  Lovitt  had 
then  reached  that  point  in  the  development  of  the  chumming 
system — hastened  a  little  by  circumstances — when  one  thinks  it 
isn't  absolutely  necessary  for  those  people  to  concern  themselves 
in  all  one's  affairs,  and  the  circumstance  was  not  mentioned.  As 
it  happened,  therefore,  the  Brownes  two  days  later  invited  Mr. 
Justice  Lamb  to  dinner  on  the  same  Friday,  the  old  gentleman 
being  a  second  cousin  of  young  Browne's,  and  in  the  habit  of 
dining  with  them  once  in  six  months  or  so.  The  thermometer 
having  gone  tlown  a  few  degrees,  his  lordshij),  who  was  a  person 
of  absent  mind,  accepted  with  much  pleasure,  putting  the  note 
in  his  pocket-book  so  that  he  wouldn't  forget  tlie  youngster's  ad- 
dress. 

"  We  have  a  man  coming  to  dinner  to-night,"  Helen  re- 
marked casually  at  breakfast,  and  Mrs.  Lovitt  was  of  course  not 
sufficiently  interested  to  inquire  who  it  was,  if  Mrs.  Browne 
didn't  choose  to  say.  The  man  came,  ate  his  dinner  with  a 
good  conscience  and  a  better  appetite,  and  being  as  amiable  as 
he  was  forgetful,  mentioned  particularly  to  Mrs.  Lovitt  liow  sor- 
ry he  was  not  to  have  been  able  to  accept  her  kind  invitation  of 
last  week. 

It  was  a  little  thing,  but  Mrs.  Lovitt  foresaw  that  it  might 
lead  to  complications.  And  so  the  Brownes  departed  from  No. 
61,  Park-street,  not  without  thanksgiving. 


T 


//IB. 

misunder- 
^Irs.  Lovitt 
erest  tritie. 
stice  Lamb 
week,     llis 
hen  the  iii- 
ngagemeut 
Lovitt  liad 
chumming 
le  thinks  it 
themselves 
ioned.     As 
iivited  Mr. 
gentleman 
e  habit  of 
ermometer 
IS  a  person 
tlie  note 
gster's  ad- 

lelen  re- 
!Ourse  not 
Browne 
)r  with  a 
.miable  as 

liow  sor- 
itation  of 


it  might 
from  No. 


n/E   SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIB.      22/ 


\ 


CHAPTER   XX. 

JJlOR  the  furtherance  of  a  good  understanding  between  the 
sahibs  and  the  Aryans  who  obey  them  and  minister  unto 
tlieni,  the  Raj  *  has  ordained  hinguage  examinations.  'J'his  was 
necessary,  because  in  war,  contract-making,  or  the  management 
of  accounts,  neitlier  a  (Jhurka  nor  a  Bengali  will  comprehend 
you  if  you  simply  swear  at  hiui.  He  must  be  approached  through 
a  rudimentary  medium  of  imperative  moods  and  future  tenses. 
Therefore  the  institution  of  the  Higher  and  the  Lower  Standard, 
and  much  anguish  on  the  part  of  Her  ^Fajesty's  subalterns.  The 
Kaj  attaches  rather  more  credit  to  the  former  of  these  examina- 
tions, but  afterwards  the  difference  is  nominal — you  forget  them 
with  equal  facility. 

It  might  be  respectively  pointed  out,  however,  that  the  Gov- 
ernment of  Lidia  has  done  nothing  in  this  direction  to  stimulate 
intercourse  with  the  native  population  among  memsahibs.  In 
fact  the  Government  of  India  does  not  recognise  memsahibs  in 
any  way  that  is  not  strictly  and  entirely  polite.  And  so  the 
memsahib  "picks  up"  Hindustani — picks  it  up  in  her  own  sim- 
ple artless  fashion  wliich  dispenses  with  all  ordiiuiry  aids  to  the 
acquirement  of  a  foreign  tongue.  She  gathers  together  her  own 
vocabulary,  gathers  it  from  the  east  and  the  west,  and  the  north 
and  the  south,  from  Bengal  and  Bombay,  from  Madras  and  the 
Punjab,  a  preposition  from  Persia,  a  conjunction  from  Cashmere, 


*  Government. 


228       '1^'-    SIMPLE  ADVEXTCRES   OE  A    MEMSA///B. 

a  noun  from  the  ^silglierrics.  Slie  nuikes  her  own  rules,  and  all 
the  natives  she  knows  are  governed  l)y  them — nothing  from  a 
grammatical  point  of  view  could  be  more  satisfactory  than  that. 
Uer  constructions  in  the  language  are  such  as  she  pleases  to 
place  upon  it ;  thus  it  is  impossible  that  she  should  make  mis- 
takes. 

The  mcmsahib's  Hindustani  is  nevertheless  not  perfectly 
pure,  entirely  ajnirt  from  questions  of  i)ronunciation,  which  she 
regulates  somewhat  imperiously.  This  is  because  she  i)refers  to 
improve  it  by  the  admixture  of  a  little  English ;  and  the  effect 
upoji  the  native  mind  is  quite  the  wune.  It  really  doesn't  mat- 
ter whether  you  say,  "  That's  bote  atrlin  liiii  hhanmmah-yce^'''  *  or 
"  This  is  very  cardh^  f  you  stupid  ool-ka-bi'tn^^^  \  or  use  the  simple 
Hindustani  statements  to  ex})ress  your  feelings.  The  English 
may  adorn  them,  but  it  is  the  Hindustani  after  all  that  gives 
vitality  to  your  remarks.  "  Chol'i'c  hio^^''  means  "  bring  a  chair," 
but  if  you  put  it,  "  bring  me  a  chokee  lao,''''  the  meaning  of  the 
command  is  not  seriously  interfered  with,  beside  convincing 
you  more  firndy  that  you  have  said  what  you  wanted  to  say.  I 
suppose  Mrs.  I^rowne  talked  more  Hindustani  to  Kali  Bagh  than 
to  anybody  else,  and  one  dinner's  dialogue,  so  to  speak,  might  be 
like  this  : 

"  Knl  hi  *  mutton,  how  much  is  there.  Kali  Bagh  ?  " 

"  /^^  ^;//.s-  hai,  Jiazin-:'  \\ 

"Tlien  you  nuiy  irony-f<tew  do^^  and  undercut  beefsteak 
munrf((^()  and  mind  you  find  an  atcha  wallah.  X  Onions  fry  ka 
sat,  sinnja?  "  | 


*  ^  t'ry  good,  wortliy  Khansamah. 
+  Bud. 

X  Son  of  an  owl. 

*  Of  yesterday. 


II  Yes,  there  is  enough,  your  honour. 
^  Give  an  Irish  stew. 
()  I  want.  4;  Good  one. 

I  Therewith,  do  you  understand  i 


1 11  IB. 


THE   SIMPI.E   AD  VEX  TURKS   OF   A    MEM  SAHIB.      -.-» 


229 


ules,  aiul  all 
ling  from  a 
y  than  that. 
L'  pleases  to 
make  mis- 

Dt  perfectly 
I,  which  she 
e  prefers  to 
il  the  effect 
loesii't  niat- 
ith-yee,''''  *  or 
e  the  simple 
'he  English 
I  that  gives 
ng  a  chair," 
ming  of  the 
convincing 
to  say.  I 
]iagh  than 
k,  might  be 

beefsteak 
ions  frv  ka 

your  honour. 

Good  one. 
ilerstand  i 


I 


'•'' Ila.^  hazur  I     Bote  atrha   waUah   nuliga*      lu^puddin   ka- 

"  Oh,  you  can  plum-pudding,  do — a  chota  i('all((h,  and  cabadtir 
hate  plenty  ki.stuiss.'"  I 

"  Brunndi-sdure  ka  s(tt  ?  "  ^ 

"  .Vrz.  Put  into  whiskey-shrab.  Bruundi  hurra  dom  liai.\ 
And  dekko.,  curry  hazri  na  m/nicta.,  tiffin  mioirta.''' 

This  last  statement  is  to  the  effect  that  currv  does  not  want 
breakfast,  wants  tiffin,  but  the  heathen  mind  never  translates  the 
niemsahib  literally.  It  picks  the  words  it  knows  out  of  her  dis- 
course and  links  them  together  upon  a  system  of  probabilities 
which  long  application  and  severe  exi)eriences  have  made  remark- 
ably correct.  Then  it  salaams  and  acts.  The  usually  admirable 
result  is  misleading  to  the  memsahib,  who  naturally  ascribes  it  to 
the  grace  and  force  and  clearness  of  her  directions.  Whereas 
it  is  reallv  the  discernment  of  Kali  Bagh  that  is  to  be  com- 
mended. 

Considering  the  existence  of  the  Higher  and  Lower  Standard 
there  is  less  difference  between  the  Hindustani  of  Anglo-Indian 
ladies  and  Anglo-Indian  gentlemen  than  one  would  expect.  The 
sahib  has  several  choice  epithets  that  do  not  attach  tiiemselves  to 
the  vocabulary  of  the  memsahib,  who  seldom  allows  her  wrath  to 
run  to  anything  more  abusive  than  "  Son-of-an-Owl,"  or  "  Poor- 
kind-of-man,"  and  the  voice  of  the  sahib  is  in  itself  11  terrible 
thing  so  that  all  his  commands  are  more  emphatic,  more  quickly 
to  be  obeyed.  But  he  is  pleased  to  use  much  the  same  forms  of 
speech  as  are  common  to  the  memsahib,  and  if  he  isn't  under- 
stood he  will  know  the  reason  why.     The  same  delicate  autocracy 


*  I  will  find. 

+  And  for  pudding  f 

X  Take  care  to  put  plenty  of  raisins. 


*  With  brandy  sauce? 
II  Brandy  is  a  large  price. 


11  i- 


230 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


1!    ^ 
'I 


\\ 


1!  \ 


pervades  tlie  su1h1)'s  llindnstjmi  us  eliaracterises  most  of  liis  re- 
lations with  his  Indian  ft'Uow-subJects.  He  lias  subdued  tiieir 
languaf^e,  as  it  were,  to  such  uses  as  lie  thinks  lit  to  i)ut  it,  and 
if  they  do  not  choose  to  acquire  it  in  this  form,  so  mucli  the 
more  inconvenient  for  them.  He  (^an  always  get  another  kit- 
nnitgar.  The  slight  incongruities  of  his  system  do  not  present 
themselves  to  the  sahib.  lie  has  a  vague  theory  that  one  ought 
not  t  say  turn*  to  a  Kajah,  but  he  doesn't  want  to  talk  to  Kajahs 
— he  didn't  come  out  for  that.  So  that  my  accuracy  need  not 
be  doubted  I  will  cpiote  the  case  of  Mr.  Perth  .Macintyre,  and  1 
am  quite  sure  that  if  Mr.  Perth  Macintyre  were  to  be  presented 
to  the  Nizam  of  Hyderabad  to-morrow — an  honour  he  would  not 
at  all  covet — he  would  lind  nothing  better  to  say  to  him  in  Hin- 
dustani than  '■''Atclia  hai?'''' \ — the  formula  he  would  use  to  a 
favourite  syce. 

Mrs.  Browne  had  a  great  aptitude  for  languages.  She  had 
brought  her  (Jerman  prizes  with  her,  and  used  to  look  at  them 
with  much  satisfaction  when  the  problem  of  conquering  Hindu- 
stani was  new  to  her,  and  she  thought  it  would  be  a  matter  of 
some  difficulty.  She  had  ambitious  ideas  at  first,  connected  with 
a  grammar  and  a  dictionary,  and  one  January  afternoon  she 
learned  a  whole  page  of  rules  for  the  termination  of  the  feminine. 
Mrs.  Macdonald  found  her  at  it,  and  assured  her  earnestlv  that 
she  was  "going  the  wrong  way  about  it."  "With  all  you  have 
to  do,"  declared  Mrs.  Macdonald,  "  you'll  never  get  to  the  end  of 
that  book,  and  when  you  do  you'll  have  forgotten  the  beginning. 
Whatever  is  the  difference  to  you  whether  ghoree  is  the  feminine 
for  horse,  or  what  the  plural  is !  They're  all  gorahs !  Now  I 
picked  up  Hindustani  in  the  ordinary  way.     I  listened,  and 


You  (familiar). 


f  Are  you  well  ?  (familiar). 


II  !i 


l\ 


SAHIR. 

jost  of  Ilia  re- 
iiibdued  tlieir 
to  put  it,  and 
80  niucli  the 

anotlior  kit- 
0  not  i)resoiit 
at  one  ought 
:{dk  to  Rajiilhs 
■jicy  need  not 
;intyre,  and  1 

be  presented 
lie  would  not 
)  him  in  llin- 
)uld  use  to  a 

^es.     She  had 

look  at  them 

3ring  Ilindu- 

3  a  matter  of 

nneeted  with 

fternoon  she 

the  feminine. 

arnestly  that 

all  you  have 

0  the  end  of 

e  beginning. 

the  feminine 

hs !     Now  I 

istened,  and 

iliar). 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXrrRES   OE  A    MEMSAIlin.      231 

whenever  I  didn't  know  a  thing  I  asked  my  ayah  what  its  name 
was — and  in  two  months  I  spoke  the  language  ////r;///^.  So  will 
vou,  but  never  with  a  grammar;  a  grammar  won't  hel[!  y<ui  to 
order  dinner.  Neither  will  a  dictionary — you  won't  liud  '  hoss- 
iiallis'  in  a  dietionary.  That's  lliudiistani  for  'horse-radish.' 
It's  awfully  funny,  how  like  English  the  language  is  in  some 
words .'' 

''Is  it?"  said  Jlelen,  "I  hadn't  noticed  that.  It  must  be 
(|uite  easy  to  learn,  then." 

"  Oh,  quite!  For  instance,  where  we  say  'stable,'  and  'coat,' 
and  'beer,'  they  say  '  ishtable,'  and  'coatee,'  and  '  beer-shrab.' 
And  the  Hindustani  for  'kettle'  is  '  kettley,' and  for  '  bottle,' 
'  botle.'     Oh,  it's  not  a  ditlicult  language  I  " 

One  does  not  cling  to  a  manual  of  Hindustani  in  the  face  of 
the  protestations  of  one's  friends,  and  Mrs.  Browne  found  herself 
induced  to  abandon  hers  before  the  terminations  for  the  feminine 
were  quite  fixed  in  her  mind.  One  might  just  as  well  acfjuire 
the  language  in  a  less  laborious  way.  So  she  \Y,m\  diligent  atten- 
tion, for  one  thing,  to  ordinary  Anglo-Indian  conversation,  which 
is  in  itself  a  very  fair  manual  of  Hindustani.  There  is  hardly 
any  slang  in  Anglo-India,  the  tongue  of  the  gentle  Hindu  sup- 
plies a  substitute  for  that  picturescpie  form  of  expression.  It 
permeates  all  classes  of  society,  that  is,  both  Covenanted  and  Un- 
covenanted  classes ;  and  there  are  none  so  dignified  in  speech  as 
to  eschew  it.  Mrs.  Wodenhamer  uses  it,  and  the  missionaries' 
wives.  It  is  ever  on  the  tongue  of  Kitty  Toote  ;  I  have  no  doubt 
it  creeps  into  the  parlance  of  Her  Excellency.  Therefore  it  can- 
not be  vulgar.  Only  tliis  morning,  Mrs.  Jack  Lovitt  in  the 
course  of  ten  minutes'  conversation  in  my  drawing-room  simply 
scintillated  with  it.  She  wanted  to  know  if  it  was  pucca  that  we 
were  going  home  for  good  next  hot  weather,  and  remarked  that 


232 


THE    SIMPLE   ADfEXrCKES  OE  A    MEMSAIim. 


'I 

■1    ij 


I  !; 


it  was  ji  j)ity  wo  lijid  the  house  on  a  loii;^  ))ii!i(l!il)iist,*  it  wa> 
always  such  a  dick  and  worry  to  get  rid  of  a  k'asc.  One  of  iicr 
kitFnut;;ars  had  i)ccn  giving  her  trouhlc — she  was  afraid  he  was  a 
had  jat  of  man — he  was  turning  out  a  regular  hudiuash.  f  lie 
iittende(l  to  his  hookuins  \  very  well,  hut  he  was  always  getting 
into  golnials"  with  the  other  servants.  Had  I  heard  the  gup 
about  Walter  'I'oote's  being  in  trouble  with  his  Department? 
Awful  row  on,  Mrs.  Lovitt  believed.  And  had  I  been  at  (Jovern- 
nu'Ut  Ifouse  the  night  before?  It  was  getting  altogether  too 
gurrum  ||  for  nautches  now.  As  for  her,  she  had  been  up  everv 
blessed  night  for  a  week  with  .N[rs.  (Jammidge's  butcha '^ — aw- 
fully bad  with  dysentery,  })oor  little  wretch — and  was  too  done  to 
go.  It  was  quite  time  the  season  was  over,  aiul  yet  they  had 
three  burra  khanas  ^  on  for  next  week. 

It  will  he  evident  that  a  very  limited  amount  of  intercourse  of 
this  sort  will  assist  tremeiulously  toward  a  self-siitisfying  acquaint- 
ance with  Hindustani.  There  is  a  distinct  llavour  of  the  lan- 
guage {d)out  it.  But  tliis  lingers  only  in  India.  We  leave  it 
when  we  sail  away  from  the  Apollo  liunder,  J  where  it  attaches 
itself  to  the  first  new-comers.  It  belongs  to  the  land  of  the  kit- 
mutgar ;  it  forsakes  ua  utterly  in  Kensington. 

Mrs.  Browne  found  it  very  facilitating,  and  if  she  did  noi 
finally  learn  to  speak  like  a  native  she  speedily  learned  to  speak 
like  a  mcmsahib,  which  was  more  desirable.  In  the  course  of 
time  young  Browne  forgave  her  the  agonies  her  initiation  cost 
him.  They  began  early  in  the  morning  when  Helen  remarked 
that  it  was  a  very  "  atcha  "  day,  they  continued  at  breakfast  when 


*  Agroomcnt, 
\  Blackguard. 
X  Orders. 
**  Rows. 


II  Hot. 

^  Offspring. 

0  Big  dinners. 

1  The  Bombay  jetty. 


iir 


M  SMI  in. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTUKES  Of  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


233 


iliihiist/  it  was 
e.  One  of  lur 
afraid  ho  was  a 
iKliiiash.  f  lie 
always  <5L'ttiii,i,^ 
iicanl  the  ^iip 
s  Di'partiiuMU  ? 
)eeMi  at  (Joveni- 

altogi'thiT  too 
I  been  up  even" 

l)ut(.'li;i  ^ — aw- 
was  too  doiio  to 
1  yet  tliey  ha<i 

f  intereourso  of 

;fyi!i<;  acquaint - 

lur  of  the  laii- 

\Ve  leave  it 

ere  it  attaches 

ind  of  the  kit- 

f  she  did  not 
irned  to  speak 
the  coni'se  of 
initiation  cost 
elen  remarked 
Dreakfast  when 


she  asked  hiin  if  he  would  Inive  an  "  unda"*  or  some  "  muehli  "  f 
or  some  "  tunda  beef,"  J  and  it  went  on  at  intervals  from  five 
o'clock  till  bed-time.  It  was  her  impression,  poor  dear  thing, 
that  she  was  humorous  in  this — it  was  not  for  six  whole  months 
that  she  learned  how  Anglo-India  sanctions  Hindustani  for  grim 
convenience  only,  declining  to  be  amused  by  it  in  any  way  what- 
ever, and  has  placed  its  own  stamp  upon  such  time-established 
expressions  as  are  admissible.  More  than  these  are  recognised  to 
come  of  vanity  and  the  desire  of  display,  and  Anglo-India  will 
have  none  of  them.  In  the  meantime  Mrs.  Browne  trespassed 
daily,  smiling  and  unaware.  At  first  her  George  received  these 
pleasantries  with  a  pained  snnle.  Then  he  looked  solemn,  then 
severe.  When  Mrs.  Browne's  lapses  had  been  particularly  flagrant 
a  chill  fell  upon  their  intercourse  which  she  was  puzzled  to  un- 
derstand. Whereupon  she  tried  to  dissipate  it  by  the  jocular  use 
of  more  Hindustani,  which  made  young  Browne  wriggle  in  liis 
chair.  They  arrived  at  a  point  where  it  was  obviously  impossible 
to  go  oTi.  It  did  not  occur  to  young  Browne  to  })ropose  a  separa- 
tion, tliough  he  had  shocking  liver  that  day,  but  he  arose  sud- 
denly and  said  he'd  be  hanged  if  he'd  stand  being  talked  Hindu- 
stani to  any  longer.  Thereat  Mrs.  Browne,  being  a  person  of 
tender  feelings,  wept.  Whereat  Mr.  Browne,  being  a  man  of 
sentiment  in  spite  of  liver  complications,  was  instantly  reduced 
to  nothingness  and  suppliance,  when  explanations  of  course  en- 
sued, and  Helen  was  made  acquainted  with  most  of  the  informa- 
tion in  this  chapter.  In  the  upshot,  whether  Mrs.  Browne  never 
spoke  a  word  of  Hindustani  again,  as  she  proposed,  or  spoke  it 
all  day  long  for  a  year  and  nothing  could  be  sweeter,  as  he  pro- 
posed, I  have  never  been  made  aware. 


jetty. 


Egg. 


t  Fish. 


X  Cold  beef. 


10 


234 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


i      *- 


m 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


I  ■/ 


I 


'T  would  be  im- 
proper to  pre- 
tend to  chronicle 
even  the  simple  ad- 
ventures of  a  mem- 
sahib  without  a  re- 
spectful reference  to 
their  clerical  side. 
The  reference  will  be 
slight;  but  it  must 
be  made,  if  only  in 
answer  to  Aunt  Plov- 
tree's  communication 
upon  the  subject,  in  which  she  took  the  trouble  to  remark  par- 
ticularly how  curious  it  Avas  that  Helen's  letters  said  so  little 
about  parish  matters  or  a  clergyman.  One  might  almost  fancy, 
said  Aunt  Plovtree,  that  such  things  did  not  exist  in  India ;  and 
it  is  higldy  inadvisable  that  these  chapters  should  produce  a  simi- 
lar impression.  Helen  replied  to  her  aunt  that  on  the  contrary 
there  were  several  churches  scattered  about  Calcutta,  with  cler- 
gymen attached  to  all  of  them,  also  an  Archdeacon  and  a  Bishop. 
Some  were  higher  than  others — the  clergymen  she  meant — and 
she  believed  that  a  number  of  them  were  very  nice.  She  didn't 
know  any  of  the  clergymen  themselves  yet ;  but  she  had  met  one 


« 


I  SAHIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


235 


would  be   im- 
ropcr   to   pre- 
to     chronicle 
he  simple  ad- 
es  of  a  mem- 
Avithout  a  re- 
U  reference  to 
clerical     side, 
forence  will  be 
I  but   it  must 
[le,  if  only  in 
to  Aunt  Plov- 
Dmmunication 
)  remark  par- 
said  so  little 
almost  fancy, 
n  India ;  and 
reduce  a  simi- 
i  the  contrary 
ta,  with  cler- 
and  a  Bishop, 
meant — and 
She  didn't 
had  met  one 


or  two  of  the  wives  of  the  junior  chaplains,  and  one  she  thought 
an  awfully  sweet  woman.  The  Archdeacon  she  didn't  know  by 
sight,  the  Bishop  she  had  seen  once  at  a  distance.  They — the 
Brownes — were  not  quite  sure  which  parish  they  belonged  to 
yet ;  but  when  they  found  out  she  would  be  sure  to  mention  any- 
thing connected  with  it  that  she  thought  would  interest  her 
(k'arest  Aunt  Plovtree.  Doubtless  Mrs.  Plovtree  thought  that 
this  left  something  to  be  desired,  and  if  my  chapter  should  pro- 
voke the  same  opinion  I  can  only  deplore  without  presuming  to 
question  it. 

The  Government  of  India  provides  two  medical  dci)artments 
for  the  benefit  of  its  servants :  one  for  the  body  and  one  for  the 
soul.  The  Government  of  India  has  the  reputation  of  being  a 
hard  taskmaster,  but  its  liberality  is  not  questioned  here,  unless 
one  cavils  at  being  obliged  to  pay  one's  own  undertaker.  It  has 
arranged,  educated,  graduated,  and  certificated  assistance  in  all 
cases  of  bodily  and  spiritual  extremity  free  of  charge,  assuming, 
however,  no  ultimate  responsibility,  except  towards  the  higher 
grades  of  the  Covenanted  Ones.  To  them,  I  believe,  it  guarantees 
heaven ;  but  it  is  difficult  to  obtain  accurate  information  upon 
tliis  point,  especially  as  that  state  is  apt  to  be  confounded  out 
here  with  the  rank  and  privileges  of  a  Knight  Commander  of  the 
Order  of  the  Star  of  India. 

It  is,  of  course,  a  debatable  question — I  speak  here  of  the 
senior  chaplains;  the  junior  chaplains  suffer  an  almost  prohib- 
itive baby-tax,  which,  to  a  junior  chaplain,  is  a  serious  financial 
consideration,  and  his  pay  is  not  luxurious — but  I  have  always 
understood  that  the  spiritual  service  of  the  Kaj  is  not  such  an 
excessively  bad  thing.  I  know  that  comparatively  few  of  its 
members  are  of  this  opinion,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  pecul- 
iarly agreeable  absence  of  theological  controversy  in  India  is  due 


236 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB, 


to  the  fact  that  the  energy  of  reverend  gentlemen  is  largely  occu- 
pied in  popularising  a  different  one.  Still  it  remains  the  lay 
idea  that  the  chaplains  of  the  Government  of  India  are  in  their 
father-in-law's  house.  The  term  of  service  is  brief,  and  during 
its  course  the  reverend  servant  mav  claim  to  write  his  sermons 
and  proclaim  the  example  of  the  wicked  man  for  three  years 
comfortably  in  a  hill  station,  where  his  clerical  liver  need  never 
compel  his  clerical  temper  to  spend  itself  unbecomingly  upon 
kitmutgars.  llis  pay  is  moderate,  but  as  high  probably  as  could 
be  considered  prudeuu  \i\  view  of  the  undesirability  of  encourag- 
ing worldliness  in  a  spiritual  department,  and  it  is  not  written  in 
his  contract  that  the  beady  simpkin  shall  enhance  his  little  dinner 
parties. 

"  Pegs,  claret,  and  beer  for  a  junior  chaplain,"  remarked  one 
of  Calcutta's  spiritual  advisers  to  me  once ;  "  but  sherry  is  ex- 
pected as  well  of  a  senior  chaplain,  and  even  cura^oa!"  He 
spoke  ruefully,  for  he  was  a  senior  chaplain,  and  given  to  hospi- 
tality. The  reverend  brotherhood  are  eligible  for  three  months' 
privilege  leave  every  year  upon  full  pay,  and  three  years'  furlough 
during  service  on  half  pay.  In  addition  to  which  they  do  not 
scruple  to  hold  "  retreats,"  also  doubtless  upon  full  oflicial  allow- 
ances, though  their  cardinal  features  may  be  fish  and  eggs.  They 
enter  into  their  reward  earlv,  and  it  is  a  substantial  one — three 
hundred  a  year,  and  such  pickings  as  offer  themselves  in  England 
to  reverend  gentlemen  with  a  competency.  Neither  is  the  exer- 
cise of  faith  required  of  them  in  regard  to  it ;  it  is  in  the  bond. 
In  this  respect  it  is  obvious  that  the  Indian  vineyard  offers  a  dis- 
tinct advantage  over  others,  where  the  labourers  are  expected  to 
be  contented  with  abstract  compensations  to  be  enjoyed  after 
their  decease.  Popularly  they  are  known  as  "  padres,"  which  is 
a  Portuguese  survival   mere  respectable  than  any  other,  and  a 


SAHIB. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


237 


largely  occu- 
nuins  the  lay 

are  in  their 
f,  and  during 
D  his  sermons 
r  three  years 
?r  need  never 
»niingly  upon 
[i1)ly  as  could 
of  encourao;- 
lot  written  in 
)  little  dinner 

■eniarked  one 

sherry  is  ex- 

ra^oa ! "     He 

ven  to  hospi- 

iree  months' 

ars'  furlough 

they  do  not 

fieial  allow- 

eggs.    They 

one — three 

in  England 

is  the  exer- 

n  the  bond. 

offers  a  dis- 

expected  to 

joyed  after 

s,"  which  is 

ther,  and  a 


■) 


»    ; 


\ 


demi-official  tag  which  admits  its  owner  to  society.  It  ought  to 
he  mentioned  that  the  Indian  jiadre  does  not  move  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  feminine  adoration  which  would  be  created  for  him  in 
I'jigland  ;  there  are  too  many  other  men  for  that.  Doubtless  the 
more  attractive  of  the  junior  chaplains,  sent  out,  as  it  were,  in 
cotton  wool,  miss  the  little  attentions  of  the  ladies  of  the  par- 
i.sh  at  home,  but  then  they  have  their  polo  ponies  and  their 
j.egs. 

There  were  various  reasons  why  Mrs.  George  Browne  had  been 
eompelled  to  write  to  her  inquiring  aunt  that  as  yet  she  had  not 
the  pleasure  of  any  clergyman's  acquaintance.  The  padres  are 
otlieial,  for  one  thing,  and  one  does  not  approach  an  official  in 
India— especially  if  one  is  a  commercial — without  some  appropri- 
ate excuse.  When  the  Brownes  wanted  to  be  married  a  reverend 
gentleman  married  them,  and  did  it  very  well — as  they  always  do 
in  the  cathedral — for  I  was  looking  on.  If  either  of  them  had 
since  required  to  be  bnried  he  would  doubtless  have  done  that 
with  the  same  ability,  despatch,  and  desire  to  oblige.  lie  might 
also  in  the  future  be  applied  to  with  propriety  in  connection  with 
a  christening.  If  the  Brownes'  water-pipes  leaked  the  Brownes 
would  with  equal  and  similar  propriety  request  the  Municipal 
Engineer  to  mend  them  and  they  would  be  mended,  but  the 
Municipal  Engineer  would  probably  not  consider  himself  natu- 
rally drawn  within  the  circle  of  the  Brownes'  amicable  social 
relations  in  consequence.  ^Irs.  Brown  would  not  call  npon  Mrs. 
Municipal  Engineer  to  assure  her  that  they  were  well  mended. 
Tlie  spiritual  official  also  discharges  his  duty  as  specified,  and 
one  would  have  an  equal  hesitation,  generally,  in  interpreting  it 
too  broadly.  And,  indeed,  with  only  the  forms  and  papers  relat- 
ing to  the  nuptial,  baptismal,  and  burial  business  of  the  capital 
upon  his  hands  the  Calcutta  cleric  may  claim  to  be  overburdened. 


i  i 


,11 


i 


I 


i 


238 


T//£   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


His  cemetery  work  alone  would  keep  a  hill  padre  from  all  sloth 
and  fatness. 

Bien  entendu.,  the  missionary  padres  are  different.  The  mis- 
sionary padres  are  not  ofticial.  1  have  no  doubt  the  Government 
would  interfere  to  prevent  their  being  eaten  if  the  Bengali  baboo 
were  carnivorous ;  but  he  is  not,  he  has  no  fleshy  tastes ;  he 
prefers  an  inglorious  diet  of  rice,  fried  sweetmeats  and  mango 
chutney,  to  even  a  stalled  chaplain,  beside  whom  a  missionary 
padre  is  lean  and  tough.  Moreover,  the  Bengali  baboo  was  never 
designed  for  the  shedding  of  blood.  So  that  the  Government 
has  really  no  responsibilities  toward  the  missionary  padres.  It 
will  educate  and  sanitate  the  baboo,  but  it  leaves  his  salvation  to 
private  enterprise,  undertaking  nothing  on  behalf  of  the  entre- 
jireneurs. 

The  missionary  padre  receives  his  slender  stipend  from  the 
S.  P.  G.  or  from  some  obscure  source  in  America.  It  is  arranged 
upon  a  scale  to  promote  self-denial,  and  it  is  very  successful.  He 
usually  lives  where  the  drains  are  thickest  and  the  smells  most 
unmanageable,  and  when  we  of  the  broad  river  and  the  great 
Maidan  happen  to  hear  of  his  address,  we  invariably  ejaculate, 
"  What  a  frightfully  long  way  off  !  "  The  ticca  gharry  is  not  an 
expensive  conveyance,  but  the  missionary  padre  finds  himself 
better  commended  of  his  conscience  if  he  walks  and  pays  the 
cost  of  his  transportation  in  energy  and  vitality,  which  must  be 
heavy  in  the  hot  weather  and  the  rains.  For  the  rest,  he  lives 
largely  upon  second-class  beef  and  his  ideals,  though  they  don't 
keep  very  well  either  in  this  climate.  Those  who  come  out 
celibates  remain  celibates  if  not  by  force  of  conviction  by  force 
of  circumstances.  The  expensively  home-bred  young  ladies  of 
Anglo-India  are  not  for  missionaries !  Whereas  those  who  are 
married  are  usually  married  to  missionary  ladies  of  similar  size 


M  SAHIB. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


239 


B  from  all  sloth 

ent.     The  mis- 
lie  Government 
!  Bengali  baboo 
shy  tastes;   he 
ats  and  mango 
(1  a  missionary' 
aboo  was  never 
le  Government 
iry  padres.     It 
lis  salvation  to 
'  of  the  entre- 

3end  from  the 

It  is  aiTanged 

iccessful.    He 

10  smells  most 

iiid  the  great 

bly  ejaculate, 

.rry  is  not  an 

finds  himself 

md  pays  the 

lich  must  be 

rest,  he  lives 

h  they  don't 

0  come  out 

ion  by  force 

ig  ladies  of 

ose  who  are 

similar  size 


T\ 


and  complexion  labouring  in  the  same  cause.  Covenanted  chap- 
lains, on  the  contrary,  with  the  prospects  1  have  mentioned,  may 
be  yoked  together  with  the  debutante  of  any  season.  So  there 
is  this  further  difference,  that  while  the  official  padre's  wife  looks 
like  any  other  memsahib,  the  missionary  padre's  wife  looks  like 
the  missionary  padre.  I  believe  that  chaplains  sometimes  ask 
missionary  padres  to  dinner  "  quietly,"  and  always  make  a  point 
of  giving  them  plenty  to  eat.  And  I  remember  meeting  a  mar- 
ried pair  of  them  at  the  Brownes',  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Week. 
Young  Browne  had  known  Mr.  Week  at  school  before  his  voca- 
tion appeared  to  him.  He  was  an  undersized  young  man,  high- 
shouldered,  very  hollow-chested,  and  wore  his  long  hair  brushed 
back  from  his  high  forehead,  almost,  one  might  say,  behind  his 
ears.  She  was  a  little  white  woman  in  a  high  dress,  and  wore 
her  locks,  which  were  beginning  to  thin,  in  a  tiny  knot  at  the 
very  back  of  her  crown.  It  was  in  the  hot  weather,  and  they 
spoke  appreciatively  of  the  punkah.  They  had  no  punkah,  it 
seemed,  either  day  or  night ;  but  the  little  wife  had  been  very 
clever,  and  had  made  muslin  bags  for  their  heads  and  hands  to 
keep  off  the  mosquitoes  while  they  were  asleep.  "We  couldn't 
ascertain  that  either  of  them  haJ  ever  been  really  well  since 
they  came  out,  and  they  said  they  simply  made  up  their  minds 
to  have  sickness  in  the  house  during  the  whole  of  the  rains.  It 
was  either  neuralgia  or  fever  that  season  through,  and  neither 
of  them  knew  which  was  worst.  I  asked  Mrs.  Week  inadvert- 
ently if  she  had  any  children.  She  said  "  No,"  and  there  was 
a  silence  wliich  Helen  explained  afterwards  by  telling  me  tliat 
Mrs.  Week  had  lost  her  only  baby  from  diphtheria,  which  they 
attributed  to  a  certain  miasma  that  "  came  up  through  the  floor." 
Young  Browne  tried  to  make  the  conversation,  but  it  invari- 
ably turned  to  some  aspect  of  tlie  "  work,"  and  left  him  blun- 


¥T 


7  i 


f     i 


¥     \ 


240 


T^y/i?   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


derin<^  and  embarrassed,  with  no  resource  except  to  beg  Mrs. 
"Week  to  have  another  slice  of  the  joint.  They  knew  little  of  the 
Red  Road  or  the  Eden  (iardens,  where  the  band  plays  in  the 
evening ;  they  talked  of  strange  places  —  Khengua  Puttoo's 
Lane — Coolootollah.  Mrs.  Week  told  us  that  her  great  difficulty 
in  the  zenanas  lay  in  getting  the  ladies  to  talk.  'J'hey  liked  her 
to  come,  they  were  always  pleased  and  polite,  but  they  seemed 
interested  in  so  few  things.  When  Mrs.  Week  had  asked  them 
if  they  were  well,  and  how  much  of  a  family  they  had,  and  how 
old  the  children  were,  there  seemed  to  be  no  getting  any  further, 
and  she  could  not  chew  betel  with  them.  Mrs.  Week  said  she 
had  tried,  but  it  was  no  use.  She  loved  her  zenana  ladies,  they 
were  dear  things,  and  she  knew  they  were  attached  to  her,  but 
they  were  provoking,  too,  sometimes.  One  day  last  week  she 
had  talked  very  seriously  to  them  for  nearly  an  hour,  and  they 
had  seemed  most  attentive.  Just  as  she  was  going  away  one  of 
them — an  old  lady — approached  her,  with  cast-down  eyes  and 
great  reluctance,  wishing  to  speak.  ^Mrs.  Week  encouraged  her 
to  begin — was  she  at  last  to  see  some  fruit  of  her  visits  ?  And 
the  old  lady  had  said  "  Egcji  hai^''  would  the  memsahib  please 
to  tell  them  why  she  put  those  shiny  black  hooks  in  her  hair  ? 

Everybody  laughed ;  but  Mrs.  Week  added  gravely  that  she 
had  shown  them  the  use  of  hairpins,  and  taken  them  a  packet 
next  day,  to  their  great  delight.  "  One  never  can  tell,"  said 
Mrs.  Week,  "  what  these  trifles  may  lead  to." 

And  ^[r.  Week  had  been  down  in  the  Sunderbunds,  far  down 
in  the  Sunderbunds  Avhere  the  miasmas  are  thickest,  and  where 
he  had  slept  every  night  for  a  week  on  a  bench  in  the  same 
small  room  with  two  baboos  and  the  ague.  Mr.  Week  had  found 
the  people  very  much  interested  in  the  joys  of  the  future  state ; 
their  attention  only  flagged,  he  said,  when  he  referred  to  the 


ij'.   I 


¥ 


//IB. 

)  beg  Mrs. 
ittle  of  the 
lays  in  the 
a  Puttoo's 
it  difficulty 
y  liked  her 
ley  seemed 
sked  them 
l1,  and  how 
ny  further, 
ek  said  she 
ladies,  they 
to  hf  r,  but 
■  week  she 
,  and  they 
way  one  of 

I  eyes  and 
uraged  her 
its?  And 
hib  please 
Br  hair  ? 

Iv  that  she 

II  a  packet 
tell,"   said 

,  far  down 
and  where 
the  same 
had  found 
ture  state ; 
ed  to  the 


i 


/!//•:    S/A//'/.E  ADVEXrURES   OE  A    MEMSA/I/H. 


241 


oarthly  preparation  for  them.  Mr.  Week  was  more  emaciated 
tlian  clever.  He  spoke  with  an  enthusiastic  cockney  twang  of 
liis  open-air  meetings  and  discussions  in  DhurrumtoUuh,  of  the 
anxiety  with  which  the  baboos  wished  to  discuss  the  most  recon- 
dite theological  points  with  him.  "  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Perth  Mac- 
iiityre,  "  the  baboo  is  a  great  buck-wallah."  *  There  is  reason  to 
fear  that  the  lay  community  of  Calcutta  is  rather  inclined  to 
consider  the  baboo's  soul  an  unproved  entity. 

Returning  to  the  senior  and  junior  chaplains,  it  is  delightful 
to  see  the  natural  man  under  the  Indian  surplice.  At  home  the 
padre  is  an  order,  in  India  he  is  an  individual.  He  is  not  su})- 
pressed  by  parish  opinion,  he  is  rather  encouraged  to  expand  in 
the  smile  of  the  Raj,  which  is  above  all  and  over  all.  He  is 
official,  joyous,  free,  and  he  develops  ha])pily  along  the  lines 
which  Nature  designed  for  him  before  ever  he  turned  aside  into 
the  crooked  paths  of  theology.  It  is  seeing  by  these  lights  that 
we  say  so  often  of  an  Indian  padre,  "  "What  an  excellent  politi- 
cian, broker,  soldier,  insurance  agent  he  would  have  made?" 

Being  now,  as  one  might  say,  a  sheep  of  some  age  and  ex- 
perience and  standing  in  the  community,  I  liave  agreeable 
recollections  of  many  shepherds.  ^Most  of  tliem  have  long 
since  retired  upon  pension,  while  the  flock  is  still  wistfully 
baaing  over  the  bars  toward  the  west.  Doubtless  the  reunion 
will  not  be  long  deferred.  It  will  take  place  at  Bournemouth, 
and  we  will  talk  of  the  debased  value  of  the  rupee.  For  one,  I 
should  like  to  see  Padre  Corbett  again — he  would  be  al)le  to 
express  himself  so  forcibly  on  the  subject  of  the  rupee.  Padre 
Corbett,  it  is  my  certain  belief,  entered  the  Church  because  there 
was  no  practicable  alternative.     He  looked  facts  in  the  face  in  a 

*  Talker. 


111! 
li 


h   «ii 


i.  '■ 


I. 


I'    I 


242 


77//:    SIMPLE   AD  VEX  TV  RES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


business-like  niiinner,  shook  his  big  square  head  over  them, 
smoked  a  farewell  pipe  to  the  sturdy  hUtiscs  of  his  youth,  and 
went  in  for  orders  under  the  advice  of  a  second  cousin  in  the  In- 
dia Office.  Then  he  came  out  to  minister  to  the  soul  of  Tommy 
Atkins  in  Murshidabad,  where  it  is  very  hot,  and  whether  it 
was  the  heat  of  Murshidabad,  or  the  atmosphere  of  military 
discipline  there,  Padre  Corbett  got  into  the  way  of  ordering 
Tommy  Atkins  to  come  to  be  saved  and  not  to  answer  back  or 
otherwise  give  trouble  about  it,  that  I  remember  him  by. 
Padre  Corbett  never  lost  the  disciplinary  air  and  ideas  of 
Murshidabad.  As  he  marched  up  the  aisle  of  peaceful  St. 
Ignatius  in  Calcutta  behind  his  choir  boys,  there  was  a  distinct 
military  swagger  in  the  rear  folds  of  his  surplice,  and  he  j)ut  us 
througli  our  devotional  drill  with  the  rapidity  and  precision  of  a 
lield-marslial.  "  Fours  about !  Trot !  vou  miserable  sinners  !  "  he 
gave  us  to  understand  at  the  beginning  of  the  Psalms,  and  the 
main  battalion  of  St.  Ignatius  in  the  pews,  following  the 
directing  flank  under  the  organ  came  on  from  Icnidite  to  landife 
at  a  magnificent  pace.  The  sermon  was  a  tissue  of  directions  and 
a  statement  of  consequences ;  we  were  deployed  out  of  church. 
We  bowed  to  it,  it  was  quite  befitting.  We  were  not  Tommy 
Atkinses,  but  we  were  all  officially  subordinated  to  Padre  Corbett 
in  a  spiritual  sense ;  in  the  case  of  an  archangel  from  Simla 
it  would  be  quite  the  same,  and  he  was  perfectly  entitled  to 
"  have  the  honor  to  inform  "  us  that  we  would  do  well  to  mend 
our  ways.  This  sense  of  constituted  authority  and  the  fitness  of 
things  would  naturally  lead  Padre  Corbett  to  the  chaste  official 
glories  of  the  archdeaconry.  Indeed,  I'm  not  sure  that  it 
didn't. 

The  Rev.  T.  C.  Peterson,  too,  once  of  St.  Pancras.     I  wonder 
in  what  rural  corner  of  South  Devonshire  Padre  Peterson  to- 


SAHIB. 


1    over  tlicni, 
is  youtli,  and 
sin  in  the  In- 
•ul  of  Tommy 
d  whether   it 
e  of  military 
'  of   ordering 
aswer  back  or 
iber   him   by. 
and   ideas  of 
peaceful  St. 
was  a  distinct 
md  he  put  us 
precision  of  a 
(  sinners  !  "  he 
alms,  and  the 
'ollowing   the 
lite  to  laudite 
lirections  and 
it  of  church. 
I  not  Tommy 
^adre  Corbett 
from  Simla 
y  entitled  to 
well  to  mend 
the  fitness  of 
chaste  official 
sure    that   it 

Us.     I  wonder 
Peterson  to- 


J 


:..     .,.=^'         ' 


%;i«^ 


.  1 


S^SSv    V 


•/iT 


<«%     !' 


:^/0^s 


o 
o 


o 
's 


-< 

X, 

u 

■«; 

H 

33 
O 


v. 


244 


nil:    SIMP/.K   ADrEXTL'KES   OF  A    Ml-. MSA II IB. 


\ 


'^ 


I* 

I J 


I 


\> 


\  \ 


V 


(lay  entcrtiiins  Dorcas  nicotin<(s  witli  innocently  amusing  ac- 
counts of  domestic  life  in  India  !  He  was  always  by  way  of  being 
amusing,  was  I'adrc  Peterson  ;  he  had  a  fine  luminous  smile, 
which  he  invariably  took  with  him  when  he  went  out  to  dine. 
He  was  kindly  ami  unostentatious,  he  lived  sim})ly  and  ([uietly, 
giving  a  little  of  his  money  to  the  })oor  and  putting  a  great  deal 
of  it  into  the  Hank  of  Hengal  })en(ling  a  desirable  rate  of 
exchange.  Padre  Peterson  was  every  inch  a  padre;  there  was 
nothing  but  ecclesiastical  meekness  in  hifi  surplice  of  a  Sunday; 
and  even  his  secular  expression,  notwithstanding  the  smile,  spoke 
of  high  ideals  and  an  embarrassed  compromise  with  week-day 
occupations.  He  had  li  humble,  hopeful  way  of  clasping  his 
hands  and  sloping  his  shoulders  and  arranging  his  beard  over 
his  long  black  cassock,  especially  when  he  sat  at  meat,  which 
reminded  one  irresistibly,  though  I  admit  the  simile  is  worn,  of  an 
oriel  apostle  in  stained  glass.  lie  was  seriously  happy,  and  he 
made  old,  old  Anglo-Indian  jokes  with  his  luminous  smile  in  a 
manner  which  was  peculiarly  maddening  to  the  enlarged  liver 
of  Calcutta.  He  would  have  hesitated  to  employ  coercion  even 
as  a  last  resort  wiMi  his  flock  of  St.  Pancras.  lie  was  no 
shepherd  with  a  cracking  whip,  he  would  go  before  rather,  and 
play  upon  the  lute  and  dance  and  so  beguile  the  sheep  to  follow. 
Ilis  amiability  was  great;  he  was  known  to  "get  on"  with 
everybody.  Nobody  knew  precisely  why  Padre  Peterson  always 
got  everything  he  wanted,  but  it  was  obscurely  connected  with 
the  abounding  charity  for  sinners  in  general,  and  official  sinners 
in  high  places  in  particular,  which  was  so  characteristic  of  him. 
He  could  placate  an  angry  Under-Secretary,  and  when  an 
Under-Secretary  is  angry  In  lia  quakes  and  all  the  Lieutenant- 
Governors  go  to  bed.  The  finances  in  St.  Pancras  were  never  in 
better  hands.     St.  Pancras  had  a  new  organ,  a  new  font,  and 


////?. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTLRES  OE  A    MEMSAJIIB. 


245 


'ay  of  being 
nouH  smile, 
)iit  to  dine, 
und  quietly, 
a  great  deal 
iiltlc  rate  of 
! ;  there  was 
f  a  Sunday ; 
smile,  spoke 
th  week-day 
clasping  his 
5  beard  over 
meat,  wliich 
s  worn,  of  an 
ppy,  and  he 
s  smile  in  a 
arged  liver 
oercion  even 
He  was  no 
ratlier,  and 
p  to  follow, 
t  on"    with 
rson  always 
nected  with 
cial  sinners 
stic  of  him. 
d    when    an 
Lieutenant- 
ere  never  in 
w  font,  and 


1 


new  beams  and  rafters  jdl  through  in  Padre  Peterson's  day. 
If  new  graves  and  gravestones  had  been  as  urgently  required 
then  as  thev  are  now,  Padre  Peterson  would  have  found  the 
money  and  had  the  thing  done  at  the  lowest  contract  rates.  A 
remarkable  man  in  many  ways,  and  now  that  I  think  of  it,  he's 
dead,  quite  a  long  time  ago. 

Others  I  seem  to  remember  best  in  some  secular  connection. 
Padre  Jenkins,  whose  pony  won  the  Gymkhaiui  Cup  at  the 
Hiirrackpore  races  of  I  can't  remember  just  what  year;  Padre 
MacWiiirter,  who  used  to  say  very  truly  that  he  made  golf  what 
it  was  in  Alipore ;  Padre  Lewis-Lewis,  who  had  for  five  years 
the  most  charming  manners  and  the  best  choir  in  Calcutta.  But 
there  is  no  reason  why  I  should  count  them  over  to  you.  I^ong 
since  they  have  disappeared,  most  of  them,  with  their  little  Hat 
black  felt  hats  on  their  heads  and  their  tennis  racquets  in 
tiieir  hand,  into  the  fogs  of  that  northerly  isle  whither  in 
the  end  we  all  go  and  whence  none  of  us  return.  This  chap- 
ter is  really  more  of  an  apology  to  Mrs.  Plovtree  than  anything 
else. 

Mrs.  Plovtree  will  be  grieved,  however,  and  justly  so,  that  I 
have  not  said  more  about  the  Indian  bishop.  The  explanation 
is  that  I  have  never  known  a  bishop  very  well,  as  I  have  never 
known  a  Viceroy  very  well.  Even  at  my  own  dinner- table  I 
have  never  permitted  myself  to  observe  a  bishop  beyond  the 
point  of  admiration.  Some  day  in  Bournemouth,  however,  1 
will  write  a  thoughtful  essay  on  the  points  of  similarity,  so  far  as 
I  have  noticed  them,  between  Indian  bishops  and  other  kinds, 
and  sent  it  to  the  Guardian^  where  Mrs.  Plovtree  will  ].)e  sure  to 
see  it ;  but  it  is  not  considered  wise  in  India  to  write  critical  esti- 
mates of  bishops  or  of  any  other  heads  of  departments  until  after 
one  retires.     I  might  just  say  that  the  bishop,  like  the  Viceroy, 


ml 


:■       I 


246 


r///r   SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIR. 


is  a  foreign  plenipotentiary.  lie  does  not  rise  from  the  withered 
ranks  of  the  Indian  service,  but,  like  the  Viceroy,  comes  out 
fresh  from  the  culling  hand  of  the  Secretary  of  State.  He  di- 
vides with  the  Viceroy  certain  Divine  rights,  divinest  of  which  is 
the  right  not  to  care  a  parrot's  eyelasli  for  anybody.  In  con- 
sequence the  bishop  holds  his  venerable  head  high  and  dines 
where  he  pleases.  Certain  of  the  Uaj-enthralled  of  Calcutta  find 
the  independence  of  a  bishop  offensive.  In  me  it  provokes  a 
lively  enthusiasm.  I  consider  the  episcopal  attitude  even  more 
valuable  than  the  episcopal  blessing,  even  more  interesting  than 
the  episcopal  discourse.  And  I  agree  with  Mrs.  Browne,  who 
thinks  it  must  be  lovely  to  be  a  bishop. 

But  neither  for  our  spiritual  pastors  and  masters  are  times 
what  they  were.  There  was  a  day,  now  faded,  with  all  the  rol- 
licking romance  of  John  Company  Bahadur,  when  two  honest 
butts  of  golden  crown  madeira  a  year  helped  to  alleviate  the  sor- 
rows of  exile  for  King  George's  chaplains  in  India — the  present 
Secretary  of  State  would  probably  see  them  teetotallers  first ! 
The  mails  come  out  in  a  fortnight,  the  competition-wallah  over- 
runs the  land,  the  Rajah  studies  French.  India  is  not  what  it 
was,  and  another  of  the  differences  is  that  the  padres  buy  their 
own  madeira. 

I  saw  a  priest  of  Kali,  wrapped  in  his  yellow  chudder,  sit 
hugging  his  knees  under  a  mahogany  tree  to  night  beside  the 
broad  road  where  the  carriages  passed  rolling  into  the  "  cow's 
dust"  of  the  twilight.  A  brother  cleric  of  the  Raj  went  by  in 
his  victoria  with  his  wife  and  children,  and  the  yellow  robed 
one  watched  them  out  of  sight.  There  was  neither  hatred  nor 
malice  nor  any  evil  thing  in  his  gaze,  only  perhaps  a  subtle  ap- 
preciation of  the  advantages  of  the  other  cloth. 


iiLi 


lllli. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTi'RES   OF  A    MEMSA/IIIi, 


247 


tie  withered 
comes  out 
itc.  He  di- 
,  of  which  ia 
ly.  In  con- 
1  iiud  dines 
Julcutta  lind 
fc  provokes  a 
e  even  more 
jresting  than 
lirownc,  who 

ers  are  times 
h  all  the  rol- 
;n  two  honest 
eviate  the  sor- 
,— the  present 
totallers  first! 
ii-wallah  over- 
is  not  what  it 
idres  buy  their 

w  chudder,  sit 
frht  beside  the 
ito  the  "  cow's 
{iij  went  by  in 
e  yellow  robed 
ler  hatred  nor 
aps  a  subtle  ap- 


11 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

AVIXO  suited  tliomsclvcs  with  the  furnisliod  liouse  of  a 
junior  civilian,  wiio  liad  suddenly  decamped  before  heat 
apoplexy  and  gastric  complications,  tlie  Hrownes  settled  down, 
if  the  expression  is  not  too  comfortable,  to  wait  for  the  rains.  1 
should  dislike  any  misunderstanding  on  tlio  point  of  comfort.  It 
is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  word  is  not  understood  iu  Cal- 
cutta. Wo  talk  of  aram  here  instead,  which  means  a  drugged 
case  with  heavy  dreams. 

The  Brownes  stored  their  furniture  in  the  godowns  of  the 
other  man,  and  had  arum  nevertheless  in  contemplating  his, 
which  was  ugly.  Aram  is  cheap — the  price  of  a  cup  of  coffee 
and  a  long  veranda  chair — and  seductive ;  but  I  was  annoyed 
with  Helen  Browne  for  accepting  the  other  people's  furniture  so 
pacifically.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  was  becoming  acclimatised 
too  soon.  There  is  a  point  in  that  process  wliero  a  born  British 
gentlewoman  will  live  witliout  antimacassars  and  sleep  on  a  cbar- 
poy ;  but  I  do  not  wish  to  be  considered  a  morbid  modern  ana- 
lyst, so  this  need  not  be  enlarged  upon.  The  other  people's  fur- 
niture, moreover,  would  have  been  entertaining  if  it  could  liave 
talked,  to  so  many  people  it  had  been  let  and  sub-let  and  re-let 
and  leased,  always  with  the  house,  since  it  left  Bow  Bazar,  where 
it  was  originally  bought  outright  by  an  extravagant  person  sec- 
ondhand. It  had  never  belonged  to  anybody  since :  it  had  al- 
ways been  a  mere  convenience — a  means  of  enabling  people  to 


, 


M 


k 


248       '^m^    SIMPLE   ADVEXTUKI.S   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

give  dinner  parties.  No  one  had  e\er  regarded  it,  or  mended  it, 
or  kept  it  any  cleaner  tluin  decency  required.  It  was  tarnished, 
cracked,  frayed,  soiled  ;  it  included  tables  with  white  marble  tops, 
and  bad  chromo-lithographs  and  dust;'  bunches  of  dried  grasses 
which  nobody  had  ever  taken  the  trouole  to  eliminate.  In  the 
cold  weather  certain  people  had  paid  five  hundred  rupees  a  month 
for  the  privilege  of  living  with  it ;  in  the  hot  weather  certain 
other  people  had  lived  with  it  for  nothing,  to  keep  the  white  ants 
out.  Withal  it  was  typical  Calcutta  furniture — a  typical  part  of 
tlie  absurd  pretence  that  white  people  make  of  being  at  home  in 
this  place. 

The  rains  are  due,  as  all  Calcutta  knows,  on  June  the  fif- 
teenth. That  is  the  limit  of  our  time  of  jnire  grilling.  "We 
know  it  is  written  upon  our  foreheads  that  we  must  turn  and 
writhe  and  bite  the  dust  in  the  pain  of  the  sun  to  that  day ;  but 
on  that  day  we  expect  that  the  clouds  will  come  up  out  of  the 
east  and  out  of  the  west  and  clothe  the  brazen  sky,  and  interpose 
between  us  and  the  dolour  of  India.  It  is  what  we  call  a  pucca 
bandobust,  arranged  through  the  Meteorological  Department, 
part  of  the  bargain  of  exile  with  the  Secretary  of  State.  For  so 
many  years  of  active  service  we  get  so  much  pension  and  so  much 
furlough,  and  we  are  to  be  rained  upon  every  fifteenth  of  June 
for  three  months. 

Therefore  when  the  sun  arose  upon  the  fifteenth  of  June  of 
this  current  vear  of  the  Brownes,  and  marched  across  the  sky 
without  winking,  the  Brownes  were  naturally  and  properly  ag- 
grieved together  with  the  15engal  Government  and  all  Calcutta. 
When  one  has  defined  the  very  point  and  limit  of  one's  endur- 
ance, it  is  inconsistent  and  undignified  to  go  on  enduring.  The 
ticca-gharry  horses  were  so  much  of  this  opinion  that  they  re- 
fused too,  and  dropped  down  dead  all  up  and  down  Chowring- 


IlIB. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEX  ri'RES  01-    A    MEMSAIllH. 


249 


mended  it, 
5  tarnished, 
narble  tops, 
'ied  grasses 
,te.  In  the 
3es  a  month 
her  certain 
3  white  ants 
lical  part  of 
at  home  in 

me  the  fif- 

illing.     We 

;t  turn  and 

it  day ;  bnt 

[)  out  of  tlie 

id  interpose 

all  a  pucca 

epartment, 

ite.     For  so 

lid  so  much 

th  of  June 

of  June  of 
3ss  the  sky 
)roperly  ag- 
11  Calcutta, 
ne's  endur- 
ing. The 
lat  they  re- 
Chowring- 


hee,  as  a  preferable  alternative — those  that  were  driven.  The 
more  prudent  gharry  wallaii  drew  up  in  the  reeking  shade  of 
some  great  building — it  was  cooler  in  the  streets  than  in  the 
stables — and  slept  i)rof()undly,  refusing  all  fares  till  sundown ; 
and  the  broker-sahib,  who  spends  his  life  upon  wheels,  changed 
horses  four  times  a  day.  On  the  night  of  the  fifteenth  of  June 
young  Browne  got  up  stealthily  and  deftly  turned  a  jug  of  water 
over  a  hole  in  the  floor  through  which  a  punkah  rope  hung  inert. 
There  was  a  sudden  scramble  below,  the  punkah  rope  sawed  con- 
vulsively, and  young  Browne,  with  a  ghastly  smile,  })ut  out  the 
glimmering  candle  and  went  back  to  bed.  It  is  a  popular  form 
of  discipline  in  Calcutta,  but  as  ai)plied  by  young  Browne  it  bore 
strikingly  upon  the  weather. 

The  Maidan  cracked  and  split,  and  even  the  broad  leaves  of 
the  teak-wood  tree  hung  lim})  and  grey  under  the  ])owder  of  the 
road.  The  crows  had  nothing  to  say  all  day,  but  ho})pe(l  about 
with  their  beaks  ridiculously  agape,  while  the  sun  blazed  down 
through  the  ilat  roofs  of  (Calcutta,  and  made  Mrs.  Browne's  chairs 
and  tables  so  hot  that  it  was  a  surprise  to  touch  them.  At  the 
same  time  it  drew  up  the  evil  soul  of  the  odour  of  the  bazars, 
tlie  "  hurra  krah  *  smell,"  as  Kipling  calls  the  chief  characteristic 
of  Calcutta,  and  cast  it  abroad  in  all  the  city.  The  lirownes 
scjuandered  sums  upon  Condy's  fluid  wholly  dis])roportionate 
with  their  income  vainly,  for  nothing  yet  known  to  ])harnuicy 
can  cope  with  that  snu'U.  It  grew  hotter  and  hotter,  and  some- 
times the  south  wind  failed,  and  tiu'n  the  snudl  became  several 
smells,  special,  local,  individual,  though  the  frangi-])anni  tree 
leaned  blooming  on  its  spiky  elbows  over  every  garden  wall,  and 
made  them  all  aweet  and  langorous  and   interesting  and  truly 


*  Verv  tmd. 


17 


I  '! 


h 


5"   t 


.1    , 

3    ' 


I 


250 


77/E    SIMPLE   ADV  EX  TURKS  OF  A    MEMSAUIH. 


Eastern.  Tlie  smells  were  not  of  groat  consequenoe ;  one  gets 
accustomed  to  the  smells  as  one  gets  accustomed  to  the  curries. 
Mrs.  Browne  declared,  too,  that  one  could  put  up  with  the 
weather,  and  the  cholera,  and  sunstroke — one  didn't  particularly 
mind  even  having  one's  house  turned  inside  out  occasionally  by 
a  dust-storm.  The  really  trying  things — the  things  one  hadn't 
reckoned  with  beforehand — were  that  one's  envelope  Haps  should 
all  stick  down  ;  that  the  pages  of  one's  books  should  curl  up; 
that  the  towel  should  sting  one's  face ;  that  the  punkah  should 
stop  in  the  night.  Even  under  these  greater  afflictions  we  are 
uncomplaining  up  to  the  fifteenth  of  June.  But  the  sixteenth 
passed  over  these  Brownes,  and  the  seventeenth  and  the  eight- 
eenth, and  many  days  more,  and  still  the  dusty  sun  went  down 
in  the  smoky  west,  and  against  the  great  red  glow  of  his  setting 
the  naked  beesties  ran  like  black  gnomes  with  their  goat  skins 
on  their  hips,  slaking  the  roads  that  were  red  too.  .  .  .  And  a 
mile  and  a  league  all  round  about  the  city  the  ryot  folded  his 
haiuls  before  his  baking  rice-fields,  not  knowing  that  men  wrote 
daily  in  the  Enijlixhman  about  him,  and  wondered  in  what  way 
he  had  offended  Lakshmi  that  for  so  many  days  she  should  with- 
hold the  rain  ! 

•  ••••••• 

A  shutter  banged  downstairs  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
there  came  a  cool  swishing  and  a  sul)siding  among  the  fronds  of 
the  date-palms,  tlie  gold  mohur  trees  raised  their  heads  and  lis- 
tened— it  was  coming.  Far  down  in  the  Sunderbunds  it  was 
raining,  and  with  great  swee})s  and  curves  it  rained  further  and 
further  inland.  Calcutta  turned  more  easily  upon  its  ])illow, 
and  slej)t  sound  and  late,  the  punkah-wallah  slept  also  with 
impi.nity,  and  wlien  the  cit  awoke  in  the  morning  the  rains 
had  come. 


IH. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


251 


one  gets 
G  curries. 

with  tlie 
^rticularly 
ioiuilly  by 
lie  hadn't 
ips  should 

curl  up; 
ah  sliould 
ns  we  are 

sixteenth 
the  eight- 
,vent  down 
his  setting 
jjoat  skins 

.  .  And  a 

fohled  his 
men  wrote 
wliat  way 

ould  with- 


e  nionung, 
(■  fronds  of 
ds  and  lis- 
nds  it  was 
'urther  and 
its  pillow, 
,  .also  with 
r  the  rains 


Mrs.  Browne  professed  to  find  a  great  difference  and  novelty 
in  the  rains  of  India.  She  declareii  that  they  came  from  lower 
down,  that  they  were  whiter  and  greyer,  that  they  didn't  refresh 
the  earth,  but  beat  it  and  sat  upon  it,  that  there  was  quite  an 
extraordinary  quality  of  moisture  about  them.  1  believe  every 
new-comer  makes  similar  observations.  To  the  rest  of  us,  it  has 
been  obvious  for  so  numy  years  that  during  July,  August,  and 
September  a  considerable  amount  of  water  descends  u})on  Ben- 
gal, that  we  have  ceased  to  make  original  remarks  about  it. 
liut  liengal  certainly  gets  very  wet,  and  Mrs.  lirowne's  observa- 
tions as  the  time  went  on,  and  the  floods  abated  not,  were  en- 
tirely excusable.  Every  day  it  rained,  more  in  the  morning 
and  less  in  the  evening,  or  less  in  the  morning  and  more  in  the 
evening.  The  garden  became  a  jungle,  the  English  Howers  that 
had  died  a  puzzled  death  in  May,  sent  up  hysterical  long  shoots; 
one  conld  see  the  grass  growing.  An  adjutant  sailed  in  from 
the  mofussil  *  marshes,  trailing  his  legs  behind  him,  to  look  for 
frogs  on  the  Maidan.  He  stood  on  one  leg  to  look  for  them, 
upon  the  bronze  head  of  Lord  liawrence,  and  his  appearance, 
with  his  chin  buried  thoughtfidly  in  his  bosom,  was  much  more 
sapient  than  that  of  the  administrator  underneath.  In  the 
evening  he  flew  back  again,  and  then  the  frogs  were  at  liberty 
to  express  their  opinion  of  him.  They  spoke  strongly,  as  was 
natural;  one  of  them,  in  the  tank  of  Ham  Dass  Ilurrymunny, 
barked  like  a  pariah.  The  ci'ickets  did  their  concerted  best  to 
outvoice  the  frogs,  the  cicadas  reinforced  the  crickets,  and  all  tiie 
otiier  shrill-voiced  things  that  coiJd  sing  in  the  dark,  sang  in 
such  a  wheezy  heaving  eternal  monotone,  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Browne,  sitting  damply  behind  their  open  windows,  were  quite 
reduced  to  silence. 

*  Country. 


2  c  2 


11  U:    SIMPLE   ADVEXTLKES   OF  A    MEMSAIllB. 


They  were  planting?  tlio  little  green  rice  shoots  in  the  mofus- 
sil,  they  wanted  it  all  and   more;  but  Mrs.  Browne  in  Calcutta 

was  obliired  to  look  in  the 


newspapers  for  the  assur- 
ance that  she  ought  to  be 
thankful  for  quite  so  much 
rain.  It  seemed  to  Mrs. 
Browne  that  all  her  rela- 
tions with  the  world  were 
being  submerged,  and  that 
she  personally  was  becom- 
ing too  wet.  She  found  it 
an  unnatural  and  unpleas- 
ant thing  that  furniture 
should  i)erspire ;  and  when 
in  addition  to  the  roof  leak- 
ing, and  the  matting  rot- 
ting, and  the  cockroaches 
multii)lying,  the  yellow  sun- 
set and  the  blue  sea  of  her 
incest  water-colour  mixed 
themselves  up  in  a  terrible 
and  crumpled  and  impossi- 
ble manner,  Mrs,  Browne 
added  tears  to  the  geneial 
moisture,  and  thought  the 
very  fabric  of  her  exist- 
ence was  dissolving.  Be- 
sides that,  the  Rev.  Peachey 
came  unglued  out  of  his 
blue  plush  frame,  and  Aunt 


HE  STOOD    JPON  ONE   LKO  ON   THE    DKONZE 
HEAD   OK    LORD   LAWRKXCK. 


■  1 


}  mofus- 
L'alc'utta 
k  in  the 
e  assur- 
lit  to  bo 
so  much 
to    Mrs. 
ler  rela- 
rld  were 
111(1  that 
i  beconi- 
fouiul  it 
uni)leas- 
'uniiture 
lid  when 
oof  leak- 
png  rot- 
k  roaches 
How  sun- 
a  of  lier 
r   mixed 
I  terrible 
im})ossi- 

1  Browne 
[^  <;eiieial 
uo;ht  the 
er  exist- 
11 1;.     lie- 

Peachey 
it  of  his 
md  Aunt 


77//;  siMri.E  AnvExrrREs  or  a  mrmsaiiii^. 


253 


: 


Plovtree  develojied  yellow  spots.  Moreover,  a  i^reeii  mould 
sprouted  in  the  soles  of  their  shoes,  fresh  every  in()riiin,ij, 
and  Ileleirs  evenin<j^  dresses  and  gloves  "went,"  as  she  ex- 
pressed it  in  writing  to  ('anbury,  "all  sorts  of  colours."  To 
pass  over  the  fact  that  centipedes  began  to  run  in  their  play- 
ful zigzag  way  across  the  floor,  and  young  Browne  killed  a 
snake  in  the  veranda,  wliich  he  was  not  indisposed  to  be- 
lieve a  coi)ra.  Helen  thought  there  was  no  room  for  doubt 
about  it,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  one  hardly  ever  hears  of  a 
snake  being  killed  in  Calcutta  that  is  not  a  cobra.  'IMie  harm- 
less varieties  have  a  remarkable  facility  in  keeping  out  of  the 
way. 

All  over  India  it  was  raining,  coming  down  hard  on  the  mar- 
ginless  plains,  on  the  great  slopes  of  the  Himalayas,  on  the  great 
cities  where  the  bunnias  hive  gold  in  the  bazars,  on  the  little 
thatched  brown  villages  where  the  jieople  live  and  die  like  harm- 
less animals,  with  the  memory  that  once  or  twice  they  have  had 
enough  to  eat. 

But  more  than  anywhere  it  seemed  to  rain  in  Calcutta,  where 
only  about  six  feet  of  solid  ground  intervenes  between  the  peo- 
ple and  the  bottomless  miry  pit.  So  that  it  is  telling  the  literal 
truth  to  sav  that  Calcutta  was  soaked  throuirh  and  throu<rh, 
dripping,  reeking,  ]H'stilentially  drunken  witli  water.  Infinite 
deeps  below,  intinite  sources  above,  between  the  two  a  few 
macadamised  roads,  and  an  inadecjuate  supply  of  gutters  and 
drain-pipes.  And  yet  it  is  not  recorded  that  at  any  time  Cal- 
cutta has  succumbed  to  the  rains,  and  sunk  swamped  into  her- 
self. 

Nevertheless,  at  first  it  was  a  few  degrees  cooler,  and,  to 
borrow  a  phrase  from  the  j)ress,  there  was  a  slight  increase  in 
social  activity.     People  began  to  give  dinners.     'Inhere  are  peo- 


R*  i 


'     1^ 


254 


77//:    .S/.I/ZV./-;   A/yr/'.X/'L'A'/'.S   O/'-  A    ME.y SAHIB. 


li!  i 


plo  in  Bengal  whom  all  the  manifestations  of  Providence  and 
of  Nature  together  would  not  prevent  giving  dinners.  They 
find  it  agreeable  to  feel  the  warming,  drying  influence  of  the 
various  forms  of  carbon  prejjared  by  the  khansamah  in  com- 
pany. They  talk  of  appointments,  promotions,  and  the  Lieu- 
tenant-Oovernor,  and  they  chatter  as  if  the  ague  were  already 
upon  them,  about  how  much  more  sociable  Calcutta  is  in  tlie 
rains  than  in  the  cold  weather — you  got  to  know  people  so 
much  better. 

Then  there  were  days  when  it  didn't  rain  ;  it  shone.  Pearly 
in  the  morning  it  shone  with  a  vague  and  watery  brilliance  in 
the  sky,  and  a  curious  white  gleam  over  the  earth.  Later  the 
shining  was  hot,  and  straight,  and  strong,  and  then  Calcutta 
steamed,  and  one  saw  a  parboiled  baboo  at  every  corner.  Later 
still  the  sun  went  down  over  the  river,  and  then  one  saw  hun- 
dreds of  parboiled  baboos  everywhere ;  and  on  the  Maidan,  driv- 
ing about  in  carriages,  a  few  score  of  the  very  whitest  people  on 
earth.  The  IJrownes  were  as  white  as  anybody.  Privately  Helen 
thought  her  complexion  much  more  interesting  than  it  used  to 
be,  and  coveted  a  barouche  to  lean  back  and  look  languidly 
bored  in  like  the  few  burra  memsahibs  that  devotedly  stayed  in 
Calcutta.  It  was  impossible  to  be  languid  in  a  tum-tum,  which 
is  an  uncompromising  vehicle,  not  constructed  to  encourage 
poses. 

Behind  their  stubby  little  country-bred,  ]\rr.  and  Mrs.  Browne, 
taking  the  air,  saw  a  Calcutta  that  never  revealed  itself  to  any 
globe-trotter,  and  which  you  will  not  find  described  in  the 
printed  experiences  in  cloth,  at  7s.  Hd.,  of  Jonas  Batcham,  for 
instance.  They  saw  the  broad  Maidan  laid  out  in  lakes  and 
rivers,  with  a  theatrical  sun,  set  in  purple  and  gold,  dissolving 
in  each  of  them,  and  all  the  spaces  between  a  marvellous  lush- 


El 


rce  and 
1.  They 
e  of  the 
in  corn- 
he  Lieu- 
3  ah'caily 
is  in  tlie 
people  so 

Karly 
lliance  in 
^ater  the 
Calcutta 
r.  Later 
saw  liiin- 
lan,  driv- 
peoplo  on 
ely  Helen 
it  used  to 
languidly 
stayed  in 
im,  which 


jncourage 


?.  Hrownc, 
;elf  to  any 
d  in  the 
;cham,  for 
lakes  and 
dissolving 
lous  lush- 


II 


THE  S/MPIJ-:  .■i/)r/:,vri-A'/:s  of  a  memsahih.     255 

green,  wiiere  the  horses  sank  to  their  fetlocks.  Floating  over  it 
they  saw  a  gossamer  white  pall  that  consisted  of  water  and  bacilli 
in  a  state  of  suspension,  and  hung  abreast  of  tlic  people.  (Cal- 
cutta has  a  saving  grace,  known  to  her  Anglo-Indians  as  the 
Casueriiui-avenue.  You  can  lose  your  soul  in  the  infinite  illiny 
shadows  of  the  marching  trees.  Even  the  Indian  sunliglit,  fil- 
tering througii  their  soft  dead  green,  becomes  a  delicate  thing. 
The  lirownes  saw  this  ranged  before  them,  misty  and  wonderful 
in  the  evening,  hiding  the  last  of  the  glow  in  its  plumy  nearer 
branches,  and  ])iling  up  soft  clouds  of  dusk  as  it  stretched  further 
away.  They  saw  the  fort  and  all  the  pillared  fa(;a(le  of  Chow- 
ringhec,  with  its  monuments  and  palaces  and  praying  j)laces  yel- 
low against  a  more  and  more  em])urpled  sky,  and  the  grey  spire 
of  the  cathedral  rising  in  its  green  corner  of  the  Maidan  behind 
a  cluster  of  trees  and  a  brimming  lake,  just  as  it  might  do  in 
England.  Calcutta  sits  close  beside  her  river,  and  there  are  no 
miles  of  teeming  wharfage  between  her  and  it.  The  great  ships 
lie  with  their  noses  against  the  bank,  and  the  level  road  runs 
l)eside  them.  Thus,  by  a  wise  provision  of  the  municipality, 
people  who  live  in  Calcutta  are  able  to  drive  down  every 
day  and  see  for  themselves  that  it  is  jiossible  to  get  away. 
For  this  reason  the  Hrownes  loved  the  close  ships  and  all  the 
po])ulous  river,  lying  under  the  wraith  of  the  rains — the  faint 
outlines  of  the  crowding  masts,  with  the  sunset  sky  behind 
them  as  far  as  they  could  see;  the  majestic  grey  ghost  of  the 
old  F^ast  Indiamcn  at  anchor,  with  her  "state  cabin"  full  of 
dates  from  Mocha ;  slipping  towards  them  solitarily  out  of  the 
unreality  the  dipping  red-brown  three-cornered  sail  of  an  Arab 
dhow.  FHoquently  always  the  river  breathed  of  exile  aiid  of 
home-going,  sometimes  with  her  own  proper  voice,  sometimes 
with    the  tongue  of  a  vsecond    mate  from   Portsmouth,  or  the 


256 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTIRES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


twang  of  a  negro  cook  from  Savannah,  full  of  airs  and  super- 
ciliousness. It  depended  on  where  you  lived  yourself  when  you 
were  at  home. 

On  a  corner  of  the  Maidan  a  number  of  mad  young  English- 
men played  football ;  in  another  place  there  was  a  lively  sale  of 
goats  for  sacrillce.  An  erection  of  red  and  gold  paper,  like  a 
('hinese  })agoda,  still  wobbled  about  the  biggest  tank  in  propitia- 
tion of  its  god.  Calcutta  emptied  itself  on  its  wide  green  acres. 
The  Brownes  met  a  snuirt  turnout  with  a  thoroughbred,  driven 
at  a  spanking  pace  by  a  pucca  Chinaman,  who  leant  forward 
nonchalantly  with  his  pigtail  streaming  out  l)ehind.  They  met  a 
fiery  pair  in  a  mail-phaeton,  with  two  anxious  syces  behind,  and 
driving  on  the  high  seat  a  small,  bold,  brown  lady,  all  in  green 
and  pink  gauze,  tinselled,  bareheaded,  wearing  her  ini(]uity  as 
lightly  as  a  feather.  They  met  a  big  roomy  barouche,  with  two 
servants  on  the  box,  two  more  behind,  and  an  ayah  inside,  all  in 
attendance  upon  a  tiny  white  mite  of  a  bclati  baby.  A  small 
British  terrier  met  them,  regarded  them,  sniffed  them,  wagged 
his  tail  and  followed  them.  They  were  not  personal  friends  of 
his,  but  they  were  sahibs,  and  his  countrymen ;  they  would  un- 
derstand his  lost  estate,  a  sahib's  dog;  he  conld  contide  himself 
to  their  good  feeling  and  hospitality  pending  explanations.  And 
so  the  stubby  little  country-bred  trotted  down  the  river  road  till 
he  came  to  a  place  where  the  road  widened — where,  beside  an 
octjigonal  erection  with  a  roof,  a  great  many  other  stubby  little 
couutry-breds  smd  slender  Arabs  and  big  Walers  stood  very 
quietly  between  their  shafts  with  ilrooping  heads ;  and  here  lie 
turned,  almost  of  his  own  accord,  and  trotted  in  amongst  them 
until  he  found  comfortable  standing  room,  when  he  stopped. 
This  was  Calcutta's  place  of  pleasure.  Behind  the  octagonal 
erection,  where  presently  the  band  would  play,  stretched  those 


'B. 


THE  SI  Mr  1. 1:  ADvr.xriREs  or  a  MrMSAinr.    257 


(I  super- 
k'hen  you 

ly  sale  of 
Dr,  like  a 
propitia- 
;eii  acres. 
(1,  driven 
,  forward 
liey  met  a 
liind,  and 
in  green 
;i(|iiity  as 
with  two 
de,  all  in 

A  small 
1,  wagged 
friends  of 

ould  un- 
e  himself 
)ns.  And 
r  road  till 
beside  an 
ibby  little 
:ood  very 
d  here  he 
;igst  them 

stopped. 

octagonal 
hed   those 


Eden  (Jardens  which  tiie  photogra})hers  reproduce  so  efTectively, 
and  the  globe-trotters  buy  so  ai)un(lantly.  Here  we  iiavc  the 
elements  of  the  most  romantic  municipal  scenery — tall  ])alms 
and  red  poinsettias,  a  fitie  winding  artificial  lake  with  a  beautiful 
arched  artificial  bridge,  realistic  artificial  rocks  cropping  out  of 
the  grass,  and  a  genuine  Jiurmese  pagoda  of  white  cliiinam, 
specially  constructed  for  the  gardens,  in  tlie  miihUe  of  it  all. 
The  pagoda  runs  up  into  a  spire,  or  a  lightning  conductor,  or 
something  of  that  nature;  and  on  the  top  of  this  a  froiicsojne 
iiritish  tar  once  })laced  an  empty  soda-water  bottle  upside  d(»wn. 
1  think  the  native  municii)al  commissioners  regard  this  with 
some  pride  as  a  tinial  ornament;  certainly  nobody  has  ever  taken 
it  down.  And  that  is  as  well,  for  the  soda-water  bottle  gives, 
one  might  say,  the  key  to  the  design  of  the  place,  which  might 
otherwise  puzzle  the  stranger.  I  should  not  omit  to  say  that  the 
gardens  are  illuminated  with  electric  ligiit,  as  such  gardens  of 
course  should  be.  The  people  walk  up  and  down  under  the 
electric  light,  looking  at  each  other;  the  young  men  go  in  among 
the  carriages  and  talk  to  the  ladies  they  know.  Calcutta  makes 
a  violent  attempt  to  distracft  itself.  On  this  ]>articular  evening 
the  Hrownes  also  came  to  distract  themselves — it  becomes  a  habit 
in  time. 

The  electric  light  sputtered  and  fizzled  over  the  crowd  of 
standing  carriages.  Helen  thought  it  darkened  the  black  circle 
round  young  Browne's  eyes ;  and  he  asked  his  wife  apprehend- 
ingly  if  she  were  feeling  chilled  or  anything — she  looked  so 
white.  The  damp,  warm  air  clung  to  their  faces.  A  num  in  a 
ticca  gharry  said  to  a  num  in  the  road  that  it  was  damned 
muggy.  Several  people  in  the  carriages  near  heard  him  say 
this — it  was  so  quiet.  The  crowd  of  carriage-tops  gleamed 
motionless,  the  horses  stood  dejectedly  on  three  legs,  and  under 


:     1 


I' t' 


, 

> 

1 

! 

1 

# 

» 

258 


T/IE    SIMri.E   ADl'EXTL'RES   OF  A    M EM SA II 1  li. 


every  liorse's  nose  a  cotton-clad  syce  "  bitoed  "  *  on  the  ground 
w'itli  ills  chin  on  liis  knees.  A  peddling  native  thrust  u[)  u 
round  Hat  boucjuet  of  pink  and  white  roses  that  smelt  of  "  Jockey 
Club."     "  ,1iw !  "  said  young  IJrowne. 

Presently  the  band  j)layed  a  gay  and  lightsome  air,  very  sad 
to  hear,  from  aTi  opera  long  su])erseded  at  home,  and  with  the 
playing  of  the  band  the  general  depression  seemed  to  thicken  and 
close  down.  There  are  peo])le  in  Calcutta  who,  even  for  distrac- 
tion's sake,  cannot  stand  selections  from  the  Mikado  so  near  the 
end  of  the  century.  One  by  one  the  carriages  began  to  roll  away. 
Perhaps  along  the  river  road  there  would  be  a  breath  of  air. 
The  band  played  a  medley,  all  sorts  of  things,  and  then  "  The 
Land  o'  the  Leal."  I  saw  the  MacTaggarts  drive  olT.  "  Syce!'''' 
said  Mr.  Perth  Macintyre;  '' buttie  jallao  !  (Uirku!''\  .  .  .  The 
last  of  the  pink  flush  faded  out  of  the  sky  behind  the  ships. 
The  air  grew  sodden  and  chill,  a  little  raw  breeze  cre[)t  in  from 
the  east.  Young  Browne  took  off  his  hat  to  "  God  Save  the 
Queen,"  and  then  "  I  think  we  ought  to  hurry  him  a  little,"  said 
Helen,  referring  to  the  stubby  little  country-bred.  "  It's  going 
to  rain." 

It  was  in  this  month  of  August,  I  remember,  that  we  lost  a 
partner  of  the  firm,  in  a  sad  though  not  unusual  way.  lie  died, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  from  a  little  Calcutta  mud  which  rubbed 
itself  into  his  elbow  one  afternoon  when  he  was  thrown  out  of 
his  brougham.  Tetanus  the  doctors  called  it,  and  they  said 
he  would  have  had  a  better  chance  if  he  had  been  thrown 
out  of  his  brougham  at  another  time  of  year.  He  was 
buried,  poor   man,  in  seven   inches  of  water;    and  Mr.  Perth 

*  Sat  on  his  heels. 

f  "  Light  the  (carriage)  lamps.     To  the  house  I" 


IJi. 

0  ground 
list  up  a 
"  Jockey 

very  sad 
witli  tlio 
ckcn  and 
r  di.strac- 

ncar  tlie 
•oil  away, 
li  of  air. 
en  "The 
"  Syce ! " 
.  .  .  The 
he  ships. 
b  in  from 
Save  the 
:tle,"  said 
It's  going 

we  lost  a 
He  died, 
h  rubbed 
vn  out  of 
they  said 

1  tlirown 
He    was 

Ir.  Perth 


T///-:   SI  Mr  IE   ADVEXTURES  OE  A    MEMSAHIH.       250 

Macintyre  had  two  months'  fever  after  attending  the  dripping 
funeral. 

It  would  be  an  affectation  to  write  about  Mrs.  Mrowne'u  ex- 
periences and  to  omit  a  chapter  on  at  least  one  phase  of  the 
weather;  but  I  could  have  told  you  in  the  beginning  thai  it 
would  not  be  amusing. 


I 


I    ' 


260       THE   SlMri.E   ADVEXrrRES   or  A    Ml.MSAUin. 


niAITKH    XXIII. 


I!  (■ 


!■ 


' 


\   \. 


IV  you  have  not  entirely  forgotten 
your  geogrupliy  you  will  know 
that  against  the 
eternal  gold  and 
hluo  !)f  the  In- 
dian sky,  across 
and  across  the 
middle  of  the 
land,  there  runs 
unevenly  a  high 
white  line.  You 
will  renienii)er  it 
better,  i)erhaps, 
as  "  the  trend  of 
the  Ilinialavas,"  and  it  niav  have  a  latter-dav  association  in 
your  mind  with  imprudent  subalterns  and  nnddle-aged  ladies 
wlio  consume  a  great  many  chocolates  and  cal^  each  other 
"  my  dear  girl."  Out  here  we  never  forget  it  for  a  single  in- 
stant; it  survives  the  boundaries  of  our  native  counties,  and 
replaces  in  our  imaginations  every  height  in  Europe.  We  call 
it  "The  Snows,"  and  the  name  is  as  little  presumptuous  as 
any  other.  It  is  very  far  otT,  and  the  more  like  iteaven  for 
that  reason ;  moreover,  that  way  Sinda  lies,  which  is  heaven's 
outer  portal,  full  of  knights  aiul  angels.     They  are  distant  and 


A^mnmitB^ 


///?. 


forgotten 
will   know 
gainst  the 
I  gold  and 
f   the    In- 
ky, across 
Loross    the 
!     of     the 
there  runs 
\\y  a  high 
line.     You 
'ineniher  it 
,    perhaps, 
e  trend  of 
)ciation   in 
iged   ladies 
?aeli    oth el- 
single  in- 
mties,  and 
\     We  call 
iiptuous  as 
heaven  for 
is  heaven's 
listant  and 


77/ J-:    SIMPLE   ADl'EXTURES   OE  A    MEMSAUIH.      26 1 

iinperturhuble,  the  Snows,  we  can  only  gaze  and  wonder  and 
descend  again  to  earth  ;  we  have  only  the  globe-trotter's  word 
for  it  that  they  do  not  belong  to  another  world.  It  is  the  brown 
outer  ranges  that  we  climb,  the  heaving  brown  outer  ranges 
that  stand  between  the  Holy  of  Holies  and  the  eye  of  the  pro- 
fane, the  unbeliever,  the  alien.  liecause  these  brown  enter 
ranges  are  such  very  big  mountains  it  is  our  pleasure  to  call 
them  "The  Hills" — if  you  talked  of  spending  three  months  in 
the  mountains  it  would  not  be  clear  that  you  didn't  mean  Switz- 
erland. Here  we  perch  our  hill-stations,  here  once  in  every 
year  or  two  we  grow  fat  and  well-liking,  here  on  the  brink  of  a 
literal  precipice  the  callow  subalterns  and  the  blas^  married 
ladies  flirt. 

It  was  by  the  merest  accident,  which  I  helped  to  precipitate, 
that  the  Brownes  went  to  the  Hills  in  September.  A  planter 
in  the  Doon*  had  committed  suicide — acute  dyspepsia — whose 
business  was  in  our  hands,  and  somebody  had  to  go  to  see 
about  it.  The  junior  partner  wanted  to  go,  but  the  junior 
partner  had  just  come  out  from  England  weighing  fourteen 
stone,  and  1  got  Mr.  Perth  ^lacintyre  to  persuade  him  that  it 
was  absolutely  necessary  to  spend  two  months  of  the  rains  in 
Calcutta  if  he  wished  to  re(!Over  his  figure.  Thus  to  the 
Hrownes  also  came  tiie  hope  of  the  clean  breath  of  the  Hills. 
I  went  myself  down  to  Howrah  station  after  dinner  to  add  my 
blessing  to  their  luggage,  but  the  train  was  gone.  A  fat  baboo 
of  Bengal  told  me  so,  with  a  wreath  of  nuirigolds  round  his 
neck.  I  thought,  looking  at  him,  how  glad  they  must  be  to 
have  turned  their  faces  toward  a  country  where  men  eat  millet 
and  chupatties,f  and  are  lean. 


*  Vallev. 


f  Native  cukes  of  flour  and  water. 


262       '^m--    SlMri.E   A DV UNTUNES   01-    A    MEMSAIlIfi. 


-  ] 

to       ; 

'■    ii 


I 


! 

, 

i 

1 

t 

I 

Kasi  wus  tliiTo  too.  Kasi  travclUMl  "  internu'diato/'  tliat  is 
to  say  sittinj,'  <tn  the  lloor,  (luite  conifortably,  in  a  woodi^n  box, 
iroii-banvd  down  tho  sides  to  let  in  li^dit  and  air,  Hoforo  the 
train  started  Kasi  had  nnroiled  all  the  rn<;s  and  pillows,  had 
made  ready  soaj)  and  towels  and  brnshes,  and  had  left  the  sahib 
who  had  been  very  troublesome  all  day,  and  the  momsahil  who 
had  already  unjustly  aceuse(l  him  of  having  forgotten  seven 
i,hings,  with  nothinj^'  to  do  but  to  go  to  bed  and  to  rise  again. 
Then  he  returned  to  his  own  j)la<'e,  where  his  own  ki!id  bu/zed 
about  him  with  Hat  baskets  of  stieky  brown  balls  and  frR'd 
sweetmeats  to  sell.  Kasi  regarded  them  indill'erently  and  bought 
iiotiiing;  the  kinship  was  only  skin-deej),  the  lime-marks  upon 
their  foreheads  were  dilTerent,  he  could  not  eat  from  their 
hands.  Secretly,  when  the  shadow  of  none  fell  u))on  it  he  took 
from  a  little  brass  box  his  betel  solace,  then  as  the  train  whis- 
tled he  nnwouiul  the  ten  vards  of  his  turban,  wra})ped  his 
rod  chuddar*  about  him,  aiul  disjjosed  hijnself  on  the  floor 
to  dream  of  the  profit  ihere  might  be  when  the  sahib  took  a 
iournev. 

In  the  morning  a  dry  coolness  blew  in  at  the  windows.  It 
had  been  raining,  it  would  rain  again;  but  here  in  Ik'har  the 
earth  had  been  needy,  and  her  face  had  grown  lovely  witli  the 
slaking  of  her  great  thirst.  The  rain  had  washed  tlie  air  a»id  the 
sun  had  dried  it  ;  to  these  dwellers  in  Calcutta  it  seenu'd  th-?t 
they  were  already  on  the  licights.  All  night  long  they  luid  been 
going  through  the  rice  country,  where  the  ]iale  green  shoots  stood 
knee-deep  in  the  glistening  water  for  miles  around,  now  they 
roHed  through  a  land  where  the  crops  waved  tall  with  sprouting 
irs — maize  and  millet  and  wlieat.    The  little  villages  were  almost 


*  (' 


Clotli  worn  over  shoukiers. 


AIIIH. 


rill:    SI  Ml' I.I:    Anil:X7LKJ:S    01-    A    MI:M  S.l  III  li.       363 


iito,"  that  is 
ivoodt^n  box, 
Before  the 
piUows,  Imtl 
eft  the  suhib 
jmsahil   who 
nrotten  seven 
to  rise  again. 
ki!ul  buzzed 
Is   and   frR'd 
)'  and  bouglit 
-marks  upon 
,   from    tlieir 
n  it  lie  took 
D  train  wliis- 
wra})i)ed   his 
on    the  floor 
saliib  took  a 

Ivindows.     It 

n   Heliar  the 

lely  with  tlie 

»  air  and  tlie 

l<eemed  tint 

cy  had  been 

Islioots  stood 

(1,  now  they 

li  sprouting 

were  almost 


lost  in  them.  High  over  the  grain  the  ryot's  sotis  ke{)t  wateh  and 
ward  against  the  thieving  parrots  in  little  open  thatched  houses 
stuck  on  the  top  of  a  long  poh^  oi'  in  tlu'  fork  of  a  dead  tree. 
They  were  perched  up  there  to  be  safe  from  the  leopard's  spring; 
the  leopards  like  a  maize-fed  ryot's  son.  'I'bey  could  give  warn- 
ing, too,  if  the  zemiiular's  servant  eanui  that  way,  to  ask  an  extra 
tax  for  the  wedding  expenses  of  his  nuister's  second  daughter. 
The  little  villages  'ued  of  kindly  disposition  ;  hert'  was  a  ])re- 
carious  crop  that  ..  ,ted  shade,  and  14)011  this  Held  every  num 
had  set  his  bed,  one  beside  another,  so  that  it  was  covered.  They 
were  at  ease,  the  little  villages,  the  croi)s  throve,  there  would  be 
enough  for  the  zemindar  if  they  pretended  to  be  vcrif  })oor ;  no- 
body would  starve  tliat  year,  aiu!  perhaps  Maiila  or  Alanga  woukl 
add  a  new  silver  bangle  to  her  weclding  portion. 

'i'he  Hrownes  were  too  utterly  poor  for  the  railway  restaurants. 
They  brought  a  tillin-basket.  Young  Browiu' (lesigned  the  tifVin- 
l)asket,  a  ("hinaman  designed  the  price.  It  was  as  big  as  a  sinall 
trunk;  it  woiUd  just  go  under  the  seat.  There  was  room  in  it 
for  everything  tiiat  has  yet  been  thought  of  in  connection  with  a 
livilized  repast.  I  believe  Mrs.  P»rowiu'  is  now  using  it  as  a  china 
and  linen  closet.  It  held  ten  ruj)ees'  worth  of  tinned  stores 
among  other  things,  and  a  kerosene  stove.  Mrs.  iirowne  lilled 
the  rest  of  it  up  economically  with  bread  and  butter  and  cold 
meat,  and  young  lirowne  added  as  an  after-thought  half-a-dozen 
pints  of  champagiu'.  It  was  a  nu)dest  Anglo-Iiulian  titlin-basket, 
mikI  they  drew  it  forth  with  much  joy  in  the  morning,  having  the 
carriage  to  themselves.  It  was  seven  o'clock  and  the  train  had 
stopped.  Servants  were  running  about  the  platform  with  cups 
of  tea  and  slices  of  toast  for  the  rhohi  hazri  of  ])eople  who  hadn't 
brought  tiflin-baskets.  "Just  for  curiosity,  (ieorge,"  said  Helen, 
'•ask  how  mucli  they  are  charging?  " 


'  t 


t 


264       yy//-:    SIMPLE   ADVJ.XTUKES   OF  A    MEMSAJ/JB. 

Young  lirowno,  in  the  unconventionality  of  liis  jnjanias,* 
k'UUL'd    out   of   the    window.      "Hi,   you!"    he   called,    '' duin 

''  Aht  anna,  sahib  !  " 

"  (Jood  gracious!"  cried  Mrs.  IJrowne.  '•'•  J'Jiyht  annas  for  a 
cup  of  tea  and  two  bits  of  toast!  The  tiffin-basket  is  a  saving, 
dear ! " 

"Oh,  it  is!"  responded  Mr.  lirowne,  "  for  the  other  meals. 
Hut  now  that  I  think  of  it,  1  want  my  chota  hazri  noir, 
don't    ytju?      lli-ups    kitmutgar!    laa    iliuta    liuzri    and   jeldi 

"One  could  so  easily  boil  the  water,  dear,"  objected  Mrs. 
lirowne. 

"For  the  other  meals.  Hut  we  can't  cook  our  chota  hazri. 
Kverything's  at  the  bottom.  We  shouldn't  get  it  ready  till  mid- 
night. 'J'he  fact  is,"  said  young  Browne  decisively,  "  we  ougiit 
to  have  brought  a  kitmutgar — t'uit  \toidd  have  been  a  saving  if 
you  like!''''  Ami  as  the  steandug  tea  came  through  the  window 
and  the  price  went  out,  "  1  don't  think  it's  so  very  much,"  said 
young  Browne. 

That  is  the  way  they  began,  'i'he  precise  numl)or  and  extent 
of  the  ecom)mies  elfected  by  the  tilfiu-basket  will  never  be  re- 
corded, but  1  l)elieve  they  drank  the  cliampagne. 

1  doubt  either  your  information  or  your  gratification  at  being 
told  that  they  changed  at  .Mogulsarai.  .Mogulsarai  is  oji  the 
map,  but  you  will  not  find  it  there  because  you  will  not  look — 
which  1  do  not  say  censoriously;  it  is  (piite  enough  that  Anglo- 
Indians  should  bo  obliged  to  remember  the  mimes  of  such  places. 
They  are  curiously  profane,  with  their  crowded  little  ntofs  and 

*  Nif,'lit  piriiii'iits  worn  hy  www  in  Iiullft.  f  "  Price,  how  inuchf  " 

X  "  liriiig  u  httle  breakfast,  and  be  (luii'k  about  it !  " 


I 


IB. 

>yjanms,* 
d,    "  dom 


iiiis  for  a 
:  a  saving, 

ler  meals, 
azri  mm\ 
ami   jt'Uli 

icted  Mrs. 

iiota  luizri. 
y  till  111  id - 
'  we  ought 
a  saving  if 
10  window 
nch,"  said 

md  extent 
vcr  be  re- 

>n  at  being 

is  on  the 

not  look — 

Kit  Anglo- 

ueh  ])laees. 

nM)fs  and 

imichr' 


i 


THE    SI  MP  IE   ADIE.X  TIRES  ()/•'  .•/    MEMSAIIIIk      265 

their  niosfiiie-towcrs  ;  and  they  arc  very  hot.  'i'he  Urownes' train 
lay  on  a  side-track  baking,  as  they  entered  it,  four  coolies  ix'jiring 
the  tiflin-basket.  The  })lace  grilled  almost  silently,  black  and 
white  and  grey  with  converging  railway  lines  encumbered  witii 
trucks;  an  engine  moved  about  snorting  painfully,  and  nearly 
naked  men  ran  in  and  out  under  the  carriages  smiting  tlu;  wheels. 
They  rolle<l  out  of  the  place  and  on  for  an  hour,  then  over  the; 
bridge  of  the  (Janges  and  past  some  old  fortifications,  and  out  of 
the  windows  they  saw  Henari's,  Benares  the  impressively  lilthy, 
trailing  her  skirts  and  her  sins  in  her  great  sacred  river,  but 
fair,  very  fair  indeed,  with  the  morning  sunlight  on  tlu'  faces 
of  all  her  g<»(ls,  and  the  morning  sky  behind  the  minarets  of 
Aurungzebe. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  night  before  they  reached  Luck- 
now,  where  they  awoke  thirsty.  A  wide,  lighted,  orderly  sta- 
tion platform,  railway  guards  walking  about  in  whitc!  duck 
and  gold  buttons,  a  single  dissipated-looking  little  subaltern 
promenading  with  his  hands  in  his  pockt^ts.  There  was  no 
ice,  and  young  Browne  sleepily  abused  the  first  railway  oflicial 
that  passed  the  window.  "  A  big  station  like  this,  and  the  ice 
allowed  to  run  out  in  such  weather  I  The  thing  ought  to  bo 
reported."" 

"  It's  in  weather  the  like  o'  ibis,  sir,  that  the  ice  di:  ruji  out," 
suggested  the  guard.     "  Tickets,  sir  I  " 

TiUcknow,  with   her  trage(ly  still   upon   her  lips,  her  rugged 

walls  still  gaping  in  tin-  white  mooidight  up  yonder,  her  graves 

still  tenderly  remend)ered — and  th(>   Browm-s'  bitter   complaint 

of   Lucknow    was    that    they    found    no    ice    there  I     Ah,    little 

Brownes !    I   write  this  of  you  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger; 

for  I  know  a  soldier's  wife  whose  husband's  name  you  might 

have  read  graven  on  a  Lucknow  tablet  in   the  moonlight  that 
18 


266       'i'lH-'-    S/Mr/.E   ADl'EX /'i'A'/:S  OF  A    MEMSAIUli, 


i  M 


iiij^lit,  jiiul  wlicn  I  ivmornhcr  all  tluit  she  has  told  me,  I  lind  it 
grievous  that  you  should  even  have  been  aware  that  there  was 
no  ice  in  Luck  now  ! 

In  the  morning  they  were  rolling  through  a  lightsome 
country,  all  gay  fields  and  gravelly  river-beds,  with  billows  of 
sunlit  air  coming  in  at  the  windows,  an  hour  from  Saharanpora. 
A  blue  hill  stood  like  a  cloud  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  the 
lirowncs  descried  it  simultaneously  and  laughed  aloud  together. 
It  was  so  long  since  they  had  seen  any  elevation  greater  than 
their  own  roof,  or  a  palm-tree,  or  an  und)rella.  They  got  out  at 
Saharanpore,  and  Kasi  got  out  at  ISaharanpore,  and  the  bundles 
and  the  boxes  and  the  bags  got  out  at  Saharan})ore.  'i'hey  were 
all  as  dirty  as  they  could  jjossibly  be,  but  the  peo})le  who  did  not 
get  out  at  Saharanpore  looked  at  them  enviously,  for  they  had  the 
prosjjcct  of  being  dirtier  still.  Arrived  at  the  place  of  the  dak- 
bungalow,  and  the  solace  of  unlimited  ablutions,  Mrs.  Hrowne 
could  not  inujgine  in  what  respect  she  had  ever  found  a  dak- 
bungalow  wanting.  Could  anything  be  more  delightful  than 
that  they  should  have  it  entirely  to  themselves !  Hetween  her 
first  dak-bungalow  and  this  one  Mrs.  Browne  had  nuide  steps 
towards  the  st.litary  Calcutta  ideal.  On  this  occasion  she  i)ulled 
down  all  the  chicks,*  and  told  the  solitary  box  wallah  who  had 
outspread   his  wares  in  the  veranda  against  her  arrival  to"Jao, 

jehli!" 

Here  they  tarried  till  the  following  day,  when  the  blowing  of 
a  trumpet  aroused  them  at  what  they  considered  an  excessively 
early  hour  of  the  morning.  It  was  their  trumpet;  they  had 
bou'dit  the  exclusive  right  to  it  for  twelve  hours.  It  belonged  to 
the  dak-gharrv  that  was  to  take  them  from  Sahjiranpore  to  Dehra, 


♦  Venetian  blinds. 


I  find  it 
lie  re  was 

ightsome 
illows  of 
iranpora. 
izon,  the 
togotluT. 
iter  tliaii 
rot  out  at 
?  buiullcs 
rhey  were 
lo  did  not 
n'  liiid  the 
f  the  dak- 
's. Browne 
id  a  dak- 
tful  than 
ween  her 
lade  ste}>s 
she  pulled 
who  had 
to  "  Jao, 

dowing  of 
'xces^^ively 

they  had 
elonjrinl  to 

toDehra, 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXrUKES  OE  A    MEMSAIUH.       267 

"a  distance,"  as  any  guide-book  will  tell  you,  of  "forty-two 
miles."  If  you  could  sec  a  dak-giiarry  you  would  })r(tl)al»!y 
inciuirc  with  Mrs.  Hrowne  if  there  wasn't  anv  other  wav  of 
going.  There  is  no  other  way  of  going.  There  are  large  num- 
bers of  places  in  India  to  which  there  1:5  no  other  way  of  going. 
And  if  one  had  answered  you  thus,  you  would  have  said  that  if 
you  had  known  that  you  wouldn't  have  come.  Mrs.  lirowno 
said  that  when  she  saw  the  travelling-carriage  of  this  Orient 
laud  of  dreamy  luxury,  but  she  didn't  particularly  nu'aii  it,  and 
neither  would  you. 

In  appearance  the  lirowne's  dak-gharry  was  a  cross  between 
a  sun-bonnet  and  a  blue  hearse.  This  nuiy  be  a  little  ditlicult  to 
inuigine;  but  I  don't  ai)peal  to  your  iniagiiuition,  I  state  facts. 
It  was  the  shape  of  a  hearse,  and  you  were  sup})osed  to  lie  down 
in  it,  which  completed  the  suggestion.  To  couiiteract  the 
gloomy  api)rehension  of  this  idea,  it  was  painted  blue  inside 
aiul  out — distinctly  a  fonvve  blue.  This  su})crficial  cheerfulness 
was  accentuated  by  shutters  in  the  back  and  sliding  doors  at  the 
sides,  and  the  whole  thing  was  trimmed  from  the  roof  with 
canvas  wings.  The  top  would  take  as  much  luggage  as  the  hold 
of  a  ship — a  small  ship.  Inside  there  wjis  nothing  at  all,  and  a 
place  to  put  your  feet.  Kasi  condoned  this  austerity  with  rugs 
and  pillows,  and  took  his  seat  beside  the  driver,  with  whom  ho 
conversed  as  alTably  as  his  superior  social  ])osition  would  admit. 
The  two  lirownes  were  carefully  extended  inside  like  modern 
mummies;  four  native  persons  of  ambiguous  appearance  and  a 
j)i'rsuasive  odour  fasteiu'd  themselves  on  behind.  The  driver 
cracked  his  whip,  aiul  the  two  meek  brown  s)»otted  down-tro«l- 
den  horses  stood  promptly  upon  their  hind  legs  })awing  the  air. 
They  came  down  in  time,  and  then  they  began  to  back  into  tho 
dak-bun jxalow  dining-room.      D'ssuadcd  from   this   tliev   walked 


m  I 


t 


268       '^^^^''    ^IMPl'l'.   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB, 


:      I 


1.1-1 


;r         ( 

I 


across  the  road  with  the  intention  of  putting  themselves  in  the 
(litcii ;  and  linaliy,  after  a  terrific  expenditure  of  language  on 
the  part  of  the  driver,  they  broke  into  a  gallop,  which  brought 
each  of  the  recumbent  Brownes  inside  to  a  right  angle  by  the 
action  of  some  mechanical  principle  containing  a  very  largo  ele- 
ment of  alarm.  Tiiis  was  not  at  all  a  remarkable  demonstration. 
It  is  the  invincible  dustur  of  every  nnimal  in  the  dak-gharry 
business,  and  is  perfectly  understood,  locally.  The  animals  at- 
tached to  the  Brownes  galloped  their  three  miles  and  arrived 
reeking  at  the  next  dak-stable  witiiout  another  thought  of  anv- 
thing  but  their  business.  In  the  meantime  the  local  under- 
standing spread  to  the  Brownes,  who  specified  it  afterwards  with 
liniment. 

To  this  impetuous  way  of  going  it  was  a  relief,  Mrs.  lirowno 
told  me  afterwards,  to  hang  one's  feet  out  of  the  door.  The 
picturesque  conduct  of  the  fresh  dak-ponies  every  three  or  four 
miles  disjdayed  novel  forms  of  vice,  interesting  to  the  uniniti- 
ated. They  bit  and  strove  and  kicked,  and  one  of  them  at- 
tempted to  get  inside.  Helen  said  it  was  very  wearing  to  one's 
nerves.  But  when  they  had  accomplished  the  little  earthquake 
of  starting  there  were  compensations.  The  road  was  green  and 
shaded,  as  it  would  be  in  England  ;  squirrels  frisked  from  one 
trunk  to  another,  silvery  doves  with  burnished  breasts  cooed  in 
the  baml)oo  branches,  and  ever  the  gracious  hills  drew  nearer  and 
a  little  nearer. 

"  These  are  only  the  Siwalliks,^' remarked  young  Browne,  in 
a  pause  of  their  jubilant  conversation.  "  Wait  till  you  see  the 
Himalayas  on  the  other  side  !  The  Siwalliks  are  only  rubble. 
They're  rapidly  crumbling  away." 

"  If  they  were  in  England,"  replied  Mrs.  Browne,  watching 
the  little  topmost  turrets  grow  greener,  "  we  wouldn't  admit  that 


n. 

js  in  tho 
iiage  on 
broufilit 
le  by  the 
argo  ele- 
istrution. 
k-":harrv 
iinals  at- 
l  arrived 
:  of  any- 
,1   under- 
Eirds  with 

;.  Browne 
)or.     Tho 
e  or  four 
3  uniniti- 
tliom  at- 
;  to  one's 
irthfiiuiko 
:froon  and 
from  one 
cooed  in 
carer  and 

Irownc,  in 
on  see  the 
ly  rubble. 

watching 
idmit  that 


71/ K   SIMPLE  A  DV EX  TURKS   OE  A    MEMSAlllH.      269 
they  were  rubbU\     And  I  (h>n't  believe  they'll  crumble  away  very 


soon 


i» 


"  In  a  fewa'ons,"  returned  Mr.  Browne  superiorly.  "  It  won't 
matter  to  \\i^.  We're  getting  regularly  up  anu)ngst  them,  'i'his 
is  the  beginning  of  tiie  pass." 

Tliey  had  journeyed  four  hours  and  had  come  to  a  little  white 
bungalow  perched  liigh  upon  the  flank  of  the  lU'arest  hill.  Hero 
the  khansamah  had  a  red  beard,  and  swore  by  it  that  the  sahib 
had  not  forwarned  him  ;  liow  should  there  be  beef  a!id  j)otatoes  I 
Milk  and  moorghy  might  be,  but  ^'^^%*  no— the  eggs  were  a  lit- 
tle bad. 

"  For  tliat  saying,  son  of  the  Prophet,"  said  young  lirowiu', 
"  backsheesh  will  bo  to  you.  In  Iien<;al  there  is  no  true  talk 
regarding  eggs.  And  now  hasten  with  the  milk  and  the  warmed 
moorghy  curry  of  the  traveller  of  yesterday,  and  dekko,  Kasi, 
tifiin-basket,  lao  ! " 

Broad  is  tho  road  that  leads  over  the  ^lohun  Pass,  and 
beautiful  are  tho  summits  that  look  down  on  it,  but  it  cannot 
be  climbed  with  the  unaided  strength  of  horses.  It  was  dull 
driving  but  for  the  sunset  behind  tho  hills,  when  they  put  oxen 
on  in  the  bad  j)laces ;  and  still  duller  when  tho  sulky,  long- 
haired black  buifaloes  lent  a  leg ;  but  there  was  a  certain  i)ictur- 
esqueness  in  being  pulled  by  tho  throe  varieties  of  beasts  at  once, 
especially  when  a  gang  of  road-coolies  turned  in  and  pushed  be- 
hind. 

They  had  always  the  trumpet,  too,  which  eidivened  tho  whole 
of  thi*t  part  of  Asia.  And  wild  white  balsams  grew  high  on  tho 
rocks,  and  naked  little  children,  in  blue  necklaces,  played  about 
the  road. 

There  was  the  blackness  of  a  tunnel,  and  then  the  vision  of  a 
fair  valley  mightily  walled  in,  with  tho  softness  of  evening  still 


m 


270 


VV//-:    S/A/J'/J-:   ADl'KNTl'KES   OF  A    MEMSAIIIH. 


in  her  face,  and  tho  smoke  of  lier  hearth-fin^s  curling  up  to  a 
j)ur])le  .sky.  Tliey  rattled  across  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  dry  rivcr- 
boil  full  of  stones,  and  were  in  Delira,  Dehra  Doon,  where  all  tho 
hedges  drop  j)ink  rose-petals,  and  the  bul-bul  sings  love  songs  in 
Persian,  and  the  sahib  lives  iu  a  little  white  house  in  a  garden 
which  is  almost  home. 


f\ '  i 


\    I 


\  up  to  a 
ry  river- 
e  all  tlie 
songs  ill 
I  garden 


THE    SIMPLE   ADI-ENTL:RES   OE  A    MEMSAHIH.      271 


CIIAPTKU   A XIV. 

TTN'  Delira  the  Brownes  were  within  sight  of  tlie  promised  land, 
-^  not  always  but  often.  Sometimes  it  lay  quite  hidden  in 
some  indefinable  matted  cloud-region  of  the  sky,  aiul  then  the 
last  of  the  Se])tember  rains  eame  pelting  down  the  Doon.  Some- 
times it  thrust  only  a  shoulder  out  of  its  cloud  garments,  and 
sometimes  white  fleeces  swept  over  it  from  morning  till  night. 
But  there  were  other  days  when  the  clouds  sailed  high  above  it, 
trailing  their  shadows  after  them,  and  then  indeed  the  Brownes 
could  climb  to  it  by  a  winding  road  that  began  at  their  very 
feet.  The  road  ascended  to  Mussoorie,  which  twinkled  white  on 
a  spur  above  them  seven  thousand  feet  up,  am.  twelve  miles  off. 
It  would  have  been  perfectly  easy  and  practicable  for  them  to 
go  to  Mussoorie;  so  easy  and  practicable  tliat  they  didn't  go. 
When  young  Browne  had  looked  after  the  jdanter's  tea-bushes, 
and  put  a  headstone  to  his  grave,  and  settled  his  bills  and 
written  home  to  his  people  the  details  of  his  affairs,  there  were 
eight  days  over.  Mussoorie,  the  particular  paradise  of  "quiet" 
people  and  retired  old  gentlemen  who  mean  to  die  in  the  coun- 
try, was  an  insignificant  achievement  for  eight  days.  The 
Brownes  surveyed  the  great  brown  flanks  of  the  liills  and  burned 
for  a  wider  conquest.  They  would  go  to  Chakrata,  high  in  the 
heart  of  the  Himalayas  to  the  west,  half  way  to  Simla.  They 
would  ride  on  horseback  all  the  way  up  and  down  again  to  the 
railway  station  at  Saharanpore;  it  would  be  more  than  a  bun- 


272       i'lIE   SIMPLE  Ani'EXTl'KES  OF  A  MEMSAIllB, 


(Ircd  miles— jin  expedition,  as  yoiuif];  Browne  remarked,  that 
they  could  dine  out  on  for  weeks  when  they  f!:ot  back  to  Cal- 
cutta. His  own  statement  (»f  their  equijtment  for  the  journey 
is  succinct.  "  \V(^  shall  want,"  said  he,  "  two  ])onies,  two  syces, 
and  an  ekka.  The  ekka  will  take  the  lu^^gage,  bedding',  Kasi, 
and  the  tiflin-bahket.  'J'he  ponies  will  take  us,  and  the  syces 
■will  come  alon*]^  behind.     J^et  us  ^o  and  liire  tliem." 

They  drove  out  the  long  shady  nuiin  road  of  Dehra,  creeping 
always  upward  to  Hajpore,  upon  this  business,  and  on  the  way 
.Mr.  Browne  ex]»lained  to  Mrs.  Browne  the  natural  history,  cliar- 
aeter  atid  antecedents  of  the '' bazar  tat."  "They  run  small," 
said  young  lirowne,  ''  mostly  ears  and  tails.  They  have  a  tend- 
ency to  displace  objects  to  the  rear  of  them,  and  a  taste  for 
human  llesh.  Tiiey  were  l)orn  and  brought  uj)  in  the  bazar,  and 
their  morals  are  unspeakable,  liut  you  can't  get  morals  at  any 
})rico  in  the  bazar;  they  are  too  expensive  to  be  sold  there.  And 
there's  no  real  harm  in  the  bazar  tat,  if  you  only  keep  away 
from  his  lieels  and  look  a  bit  sjtry  when  you  get  on." 

Mrs.  Browne  asked,  with  concealed  anxiety,  if  there  were  no 
donkeys.  She  was  accustomed  to  a  donkey,  she  said  ;  she  could 
ride  one  really  rather  well,  and  if  fleorge  didn't  mind  she  would 
so  muvli  ])refer  it.  liut  (Jeorge  answered  in  a  spirit  of  ribaldry. 
The  only  donkeys  in  India,  he  said,  belonged  to  the  dhobies, 
and  were  permanently  engaged  in  taking  home  the  wash.  By 
that  time  they  had  arrived.  It  was  only  a  sharp  elbow  of  a 
narrow  mountain  road,  Kajpore,  with  its  tumble-down  houses, 
overhanging  it  on  both  sides,  and  it  was  quite  empty.  "  There 
aren't  any  liorses  here ! "  Helen  remarked  with  disparagement. 

"  Wait,"  returned  her  husband.  Then,  with  really  no  par- 
ticular emphasis,  he  said,  "  (Jorah  !  "  *  to  Raj  pore. 


*  Horse ! 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTLKES  OE  A    MEMSAHlli.      273 


'd,  that 
to  Cal- 
joiinioy 
o  syoos, 
g,  Kasi, 
10  syces 

[creeping 
tlio  way 
rv,  char- 
snuill," 
3  a  tc'iiil- 
taste  for 
izar,  aiul 
Is  at  anv 
•e.  And 
'cp  away 

were  110 
lie  could 

e  would 

•ibaldry. 

dhobics, 
Ksh.     By 

ow  of  a 
houses, 
"  There 

meiit. 

no  par- 


*'  liimd  pony,  sahib  !" 

"  Here  iz,  ineuisahii) — here  iz  !  " 

Hiijpore  hunuui  on  iimunierable  j)airs  of  Itrown  legs,  turned 
suddenly  into  tho  best  and  most  spacious  of  its  ground  floors, 
dragging  thence  Kajpore  e<|iiiiu>  hostile  on  four,  wearing  an  ag- 
grieved expression  above  clinging  strands  of  country  grass. 
They  canu',  and  still  they  canu;,  from  abcjve  trotting  down,  from 
below  trotting  up.  A  human  being  of  sorts  was  usually  attached 
to  them,  but  llajpore  was  obviously  inhabited  by  [)onies.  No 
other  census  would  have  been  worth  taking  there.  Mrs.  Browne 
was  surrounded  bv  ra<^<'ed  turbans  and  man-eaters.  With  Mr. 
Browne's  anxious  hand  upon  her  arm  she  felt  herself  precipitated 
in  every  direction  at  once.  *'  I  can't  keei)  out  of  the  wav  of  nil 
their  heels,  George,"  she  exclaimed  in  the  voice  of  the  tried 
woman,  and  then  (Jeorgc  backed  her  carefully  against  a  wall, 
drew  a  semicircle  round  her  with  a  diameter  of  live  feet,  and 
forbade  man  or  beast  to  cross  the  line.  Then  they  proceeded  to 
a  choice. 

"Here  iz,  hazur !  Good  nice  thin  wallah,  memsahib  ka- 
wasti !  "  * 

"Thanks,"  said  Helen;  "he's  a  diagram!  I  want  a  fat 
one." 

"Look,  memsahib!  This  one  hate  plenty  fat.  liose,  rose, 
tarty  bun'nles  ghas  khafa  !  "  f 

"  lie's  a  baote-tamasha-widliih,"  remarked  vounc:  Browne. 
"  Look  at  his  eye,  Helen.  He  also  appears  to  have  kicked  all  his 
skin  oil  his  fetlocks.     For  you  I  should  prefer  the  diagram." 

Finally  it  was  the  diagram  for  Helen,  who  commanded  that 

*  For  the  memsahib. 

f  Day  by  day  he  eats  thirty  bundles  of  grass ! 


W    GE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


V 


A 


% 


< 


:/ 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


If    1^    12.0 


2.2 


U    11 1.6 


nl j.^ 


.!_• 


''^W 


■'4 

I 


274 


rilE    SIMPLE  ADVEXTCKES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


M 


an  unrcason{i])lo  quantity  of  food  should  be  given  to  it  under  her 
eyes,  and  remained  until  it  was  finished.  "If  she  isn't  fatter 
after  that,"  she  said  with  satisfaction,  "  it's  her  own  fault." 
Yo'i"!g  lirowne  selected  the  veritable  charger  of  Hajpore.  He 
wore  his  mouth  and  nose  carefully  tied  up  in  rope,  and  might  be 
relied  upon  at  all  points  so  long  as  that  one  remained  secure. 
"  They're  not  much  of  a  pair,"  said  young  lirowne,  "  but  in 
your  animal,  dear,  I  don't  mind  sacrificing  both  speed  and  ap- 
pearances." 

"To  safety.  Yes,  dear,  you  are  itevfvx'ihj  right."  And  ^Irs. 
Browne,  whose  sense  of  humour  was  imperfectly  developed,  re- 
garded her  husband  with  affection. 

Thereafter  it  became  a  question  of  an  ekka,  and  Rajpore  had 
ekkas  bewildering  in  their  variety  and  in  their  disrepair.  If  you 
have  never  seen  an  ekka  it  will  be  difficult  for  you  to  understand 
one.  The  business  ekka  does  not  stand  about  to  be  photo- 
graplied,  and  therefore  you  must  be  told  that,  although  it  ap- 
pears to  rest  mainly  on  the  horse's  back,  it  has  two  wheels  gen- 
erally, one  on  each  side.  There  is  a  popular  saying  that  no  sahib 
likes  a  one-wheeled  ekka,  and  though  it  is  a  pcoular  saying  it  is 
true.  The  vehicle  will  do  prodigious  di^.^aices  with  one  wheel, 
but  it  is  anticipating  Providence  to  engage  it  on  that  basis.  An 
ekka  is  rather  like  a  very  old  two-storied  birdcage  tilted  up  and 
fore-shortened,  with  a  vaulted  roof,  and  it  runs  in  my  mind  that 
the  roof  is  frescoed.'  The  upstanding  little  posts  at  the  four 
corners  are  certainly  painted  I'cd  and  yellow ;  they  are  carved 
also,  like  the  rungs  of  certain  chairs.  I  know  that  the  ekka- 
wallali  sits  in  tlie  upper  story  smiling  upon  the  world.  An  ekka- 
wallah  always  smiles ;  his  is  a  life  of  ease.  I  know  too  that  there 
are  bulgings  above  and  protuberances  below,  and  half  a  yard  of 
dirty  sacking,  and  seven  pieces  of  ragged  rope,  and  always  room 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIIi. 


^/^ 


for  sonietliiiig  else;  but  at  this  point  my  inijircssion  becomes  a 
little  confused,  and  I  cannot  state  with  assurance  which  end  is 
attached  to  the  horse.  That,  however,  is  a  matter  of  detail. 
The  real  point  is  that  the  Brownes  found  an  ekka  apparently 
two  feet  square,  which  contracted  to  carry  their  luggage,  bed- 
ding, tiffin-basket,  and  Kasi  up  to  Chakrata  and  down  to  the 
plains  for  the  sum  of  three  rupees  per  diem,  which  was  extor- 
tionate. But  the  piiUhans*  were  moving  down,  ;nid  the  ser- 
geants' wives  would  require  many  ekkas.  They  could  afToru  to 
wait  for  the  sergeants'  wives.  In  expectation  of  these  ladies 
the  ekka  market  was  a  solid  unit  and  the  Brownes  succumbed 
before  it. 

Next  day  they  left  Dehra,  dropping  the  first  of  its  October 
rose-leave".  Thinking  of  the  planter  in  his  grave,  Helen  won- 
dered how  he  could  have  been  so  indilTerent  as  to  close  his  eyes 
wilfully  and  intentionally  on  such  a  i)lace.  It  was  the  morning, 
there  was  a  sweet  and  pungent  gaiety  in  the  air,  the  long  road 
they  had  to  travel  stretched  before  them  in  tlie  pleasaunce  of 
leaf-checkered  sunshine.  Little  sti-iped  squirrels  played  on  the 
boles  of  the  trees — they  were  English-looking  trees — that  met 
over  their  heads.  Young  Browne  thanked  (Jod  audibly  that 
they  were  out  of  the  region  of  palms  and  plantains. 

Tiny  green  fly-catchers  swung  on  the  rushes  of  an  occasional 
pool,  pink-breasted  ring-doves  sidled  out  of  their  way,  thieving 
parrots  flew  by  sixes  and  sevens  screaming  up  from  the  kJun-if 
crops.f  Very  green  were  the  kJufrif  crops,  with  the  rain  still 
about  their  roots,  surging  up  under  the  lowest  branches  of  the 
trees  as  far  as  these  travellers  could  see  before  them.  But  for  the 
teeming  luxuriance   of  everything,  the   sense  of  breadth   and 


*  Regiments. 


f  Cold  weather  crops 


2/6 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


briglitness  und  tlie  caressing  sun,  it  miglit  have  been  ii  road  in 
Devonshire.  But  for  the  wayfarers  too.  There  were  neither 
smocks  nor  gigs ;  the  ryot  went  by,  chiefly  dressed  in  liis  own 
brown  skin,  urging  his  lean  oxen  ;  all  the  gentle  cows  had  curi- 
ous humps  between  their  shoulders.  And  here  by  the  wayside 
they  saw  the  tiny  dome  of  a  battered  white  praying  place,  and 
there  the  square  slab  of  a  Mahomedan  tomb. 

The  sun  grew  hot  as  they  scrambled  with  the  road  down  to 
the  bridge  across  a  broad  river  bed  full  of  round  white  stones 
and  boulders,  with  a  narrow  shallow  brown  stream  hurrying  along 
the  middle.  Further  away  it  trickled  into  the  Jumna;  here  it 
played  with  pebbles  and  crabs,  but  now  and  then  in  the  rains  it 
brought  the  boulders  down  from  the  mountains  swii'ling,  and 
threw  stones  at  the  Department  of  Public  AVorks,  and  shook  the 
bi'idges.  Looking  one  way  as  they  crossed  the  bridge,  it  was  a 
piled-up  picture,  the  blue  hills  massed  behind,  the  big  white 
stones  huddled  and  stranded  in  the  glistening  grey  sand,  the 
foolish  little  stream  in  the  middle.  Looking  the  other,  the  pic- 
ture went  to  pieces,  the  hills  sloped  further  away,  the  sky  came 
down,  the  big  stones  rounded  themselves  into  little  ones,  and 
spread  iudistinguishably  far.  Either  way  it  was  beautiful  in  the 
crisp  Indian  sunlight ;  it  had  a  gay  untroubled  life,  like  porce- 
lain. 

After  that  there  were  miles  of  irresponsible  curving,  weedy 
road,  that  led  them  sometimes  past  the  sirkar's*  sari  forest,  and 
sometimes  past  a  little  village  gathered  together  under  a  mango- 
tree,  but  oftenest  it  straggled  through  wide,  sunny,  stony  coun- 
try, full  of  pale  half-tints,  where  only  wild  grasses  grew.  Such 
tall  wild  grasses,  purple  and  yellow  and  white,  bending  and  tuft- 


*  Government's. 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


^77 


ing  above  their  heads  on  either  side  of  the  way.  "  Thev  would 
make  Aunt  Plovtrce  hai^py  for  life,"  Helen  said.  They  would 
indeed,  and  many  another  estimable  lady  resident  in  Great  lirit- 
ain.  It  was  a  sorrowful  waste  that  they  should  be  growing  there 
far  from  the  solemn  interiors  that  yearned  for  their  dusty 
charms.  Helen  was  so  much  of  this  opinion  that  she  dismounted 
and  gathered  a  bunch,  compelling  her  husband  to  do  the  same, 
to  send  by  parcel  post  to  Aunt  Plovtree.  She  ilicked  the  tlies  off 
the  Diagram's  ears  with  them  for  three  miles,  then  she  lost  a 
third  of  them  in  a  canter,  and  young  Jirowne  arranged  that  the 
rest  should  be  carefully  forgotten  at  Kalsi  dak-bungalow.  He 
was  of  opinion  that  in  undertaking  an  ascent  of  nine  thousand 
feet  on  a  bazar  tat  in  India  you  couldn't  be  expected  to  gather 
and  preserve  wild  grasses  for  your  aunt  in  England. 


278 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXrUKES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


CilAITEIl  XXV. 


I 


»  Si 


\ 


I 


»ii( 


\  'i, 


^ 


ALL  nififlit  long  tlio  Juninji 
piirivd  ill  tlieir  cars,  roll- 
ing over  the  stones  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  shady  hill, 
whereon  the  Kaj  had  built 
a  travellers'  rest.  Look- 
ing out  through  the 
dewy  branches  in  the 
morning,  they  saw  the 
Doon  lying  under 
its  mists  at  their 
feet,  with  the  rag- 
ged Siwalliks  on 
the  other  side — 
already  tliey  had  begun  to  climb.  Already,  too,  there  Avas  the 
mountain  scent  in  the  air — that  smell  of  wet  mossy  rock  and 
ferns  and  ruiming  streams  and  vigour — and  this,  as  they  set 
forth  ujjon  the  Himalayas,  with  their  faces  turned  ui)wards,  took 
possession  of  their  senses  and  made  them  altogether  joyous. 
The  ]JaJi)ore  charger  sniffed  the  wind  with  his  lioman  nose  as 
copiously  as  circumstances  would  permit,  and  snapped  viciously 
at  young  Browne's  trousers  with  his  retrea:ing  under-lip.  The 
Rajpore  charger  must  have  been  at  least  twelve  hands  high,  and 
fat  out  of  all  proportion.     His  syce  and  proprietor,  Boophal — 


THE   SIMPLE   Ain'EXTURES  OF  A    MEMSAlIin.       279 

probuljly  thirteen  years  oM,  weurin^^  a  rarrged  cloth  jacki^t,  a 
(Ihotj,  Jind  ill!  expression  of  })recocious  iiiitjuity,  was  very  })roii(l 
of  him.  Tlic  syce  attaclied  to  Helen's  pony  was  visibly  abased 
by  the  contrast,  and  Helen  herself  declared  londly  a<,'ainst  the 
injustice  of  being  expe(;ted  to  keep  up  under  the  circumstances. 
Mrs.  Hrowne's  nuMint  had  oidy  one  idea  of  going,  and  that  was 
to  imitate  the  gait  of  her  distinguished  friend  in  front  at  a  con- 
siderable distance  to  the  rear;  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  it 
must  have  been  trvirg  invariably  to  come  U])  ])uHing,  to  the 
reproaches  of  a  waiting  lord,  complacent  in  his  saddle.  "  H'  you 
could  ride  behind  ii)X  awhile  and  beat  it,"  suggested  Helen;  "•  it 
doesn't  seem  to  niiiul  me."  But  young  Browne  thought  that 
was  fpiite  im2)ossible.  There  was  one  thing  they  mifjht  do, 
though — at  Saia  they  might  get  her  a  spur !  "(Jeorge!"  cried 
she,  "do  you  think  1  would  use  a  spur? — horrid,  cruel  thing, 
that  you  never  can  tell  when  it's  going  in!"  with  ungram- 
matical  emotion.  "  But  we  might  change  ponies  for  a  bit,  if 
you  like." 

"We  might,"  said  young  Browne,  reflectively,  "but  I  don't 
think  that  I  should  feel  justified  in  putting  you  on  this  one,  my 
dear;  his  rage  and  fury  with  his  nose  are  awful." 

"But,  George,  I  should  like  to  ride  beside  yon  !" 

"Xot  more  than  I  should  like  to  have  von,  dear.  P)ut  T 
think,  since  I  can't  have  that  pleasure,  what  a  satisfaction  I  take 
in  the  knowledge  that  you  are  safe.  Do  you  feel  disposed  to 
trot?" 

"/do,"  returned  Mrs.  Browne,  with  i)laintive  emphasis; 
"but  you'll  have  to  start,  please.  AVliat  is  the  matter  with  this 
animal  ?  " 

The  Diagram  was  neighing — long,  shrill  neighs  of  presage- 
ment,  with  her  ears  cocked  forward.     "  Something's  coming," 


f 

1 

11 

Vili' 


280       7"/^^^"    SIMPLE   ADVENTUKES  OF  A    MEMSAtllB, 

said  young  Browne.  '•'•  Ddk-waUahata!'''  *  remjirkod  Boophal. 
A  fiiint  jingling  on  the  fur  side  of  the  nearest  curve;  the  duk- 
walhih  liad  rounded  it,  and  was  upon  them,  at  a  short,  steady, 
unrelenting  trot.  The  duk-wallah,  all  in  khaki,  had  charge  of 
Iler  Majesty's  mails.  There  was  no  time  for  a  salaam,  lie 
wore  bells  at  his  waist  for  premonition,  and  a  spear  over  his 
shoulder  for  defence.  These  hills  were  full  oi  jduwas  f  without 
special  respect  for  Iler  ^Majesty's  mails.  On  he  went,  jingling 
faint  and  fainter,  bearing  the  news  of  the  mountains  down  into 
the  valleys,  a  pleasant  primitn'e  figure  of  the  pleasant  primitive 
East.  Young  Browne  liked  him  particularly.  "  What  u  decent 
way  of  earning  one's  living  !  "  said  he. 

The  hills  began  to  round  out  nobly  before  them  now.  The 
road  took  great  sweeps  and  curves,  always  penetrating  and 
climbing,  and  a  low  stone  wall  made  its  appearance  running 
along  the  outer  edge.  Over  the  wall  they  looked  down  upon  a 
hurrying  river  and  tree-tops ;  but  the  hill-sides  towered  straight 
lip  beside  them,  lost  in  sari,  and  oak,  and  mosses,  and  shadows. 
They  had  climbed  a  very  little  way.  The  stillness  seemed  to 
grow  with  the  sunshine.  Only  now  and  then  a  jungle-fowl 
stirred,  or  a  hoo-poe  cried,  or  they  heard  the  trickling  of  a  tiny 
stream  that  made  its  ferny  way  down  the  face  of  the  rock  to  the 
road.  Underneath  the  warm  air  lav  alwavs  the  cool  scent; 
strange  flowers  bloomed  in  it,  but  did  not  change  it;  it  was  the 
goodly  smell  of  the  mountains,  and  Helen,  respiring  it,  declared 
that  it  was  the  first  time  her  nose  had  been  the  slightest  pleasure 
to  her  in  India.  They  turned  to  look  back — the  hills  had  grown 
up  around  them  and  shut  them  in  ;  they  were  upon  the  solitary, 
engirdling  road,   with   its   low   stone   parapet   below   unknown 


*  The  p'^stjnan  comes. 


t  Animals. 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB,      28 1 

heiglits,  above  unknown  depths,  insisting  always  upwards  round 
the  nearer  masses  to  hills  that  were  greater,  further,  bluer.  It 
was  the  little  parapet,  Helen  decided,  that  nuide  it  look  so 
lonely.  It  must  have  taken  quantities  of  people  to  build  the 
little  parajjet  along  such  mighty  curves,  and  now  they  had  all 
gone  away  down  the  road,  and  it  seemed  as  if  none  of  them 
would  ever  come  back. 

After  the  dak-wallah  tlie  jogi  *  with  his  matted  hair  and 
furtive  eyes.  He  asked  nothing  of  the  Brownes,  the  jogi,  he 
extracted  pice  from  his  own  people,  for  the  good  of  their  souls; 
the  souls  of  the  Brownes  were  past  paying  for ;  besides,  it  was  so 
unlikely  that  a  sahib  would  pay.  And  after  the  jogi  came  a 
score  of  black,  long-haired,  long-horned  buffaloes,  and  a  man 
seated  upon  an  ass  driving  them.  The  buffaloes  luid  evidently 
never  seen  anything  approaching  a  Browne  before,  for  they  all 
with  one  accord  stood  quite  still  when  they  came  Avithin  twenty 
yards  of  these  two,  and  stared  with  the  stolidly  resentful  surprise 
that  never  strikes  one  as  an  affectation  in  a  buffalo.  '^I'here  were 
so  very  many  buffaloes  and  so  very  few  Brownes  and  so  little 
room  for  any  of  them  that  the  situation  was  awkward.  "Keep 
close  behind  me  and  stick  to  the  inside,"  young  Browne  enjoined 
his  lady.  "  They  have  been  known  to  charge  at  things  they 
don't  understand,  but  they  take  a  good  while  to  make  up  their 
minds." 

"  Do  let's  try  to  squeeze  past  before  they  make  them  up," 
said  Helen  nervously ;  but  as  the  Brownes  circumspectly  ad- 
vanced eaoh  of  the  small  syces  ran  out  from  behind  his  pony's 
heels,  and  laying  hold  of  the  buffaloes  by  any  horn,  ear,  or  tail 
that  came  nearest,  jostled  them  intrepidly  out  of  the  way.     And 


19 


Religious  beggar. 


i 


282       THE    SI  Ml' I. r.    An\-EXTURES   OE  A    MEMSAIllli. 

there  WHS  a  deeper  luiuiiliiitioii  to  eoiiic.  As  tlioy  took  tlieir 
ri^lit  of  way  at  a  trot  witli  what  (li<jjiiity  they  nii,i,dil,  a  hiilTnlo 
ealf,  a  iiiglily  idiotic  haby  bull,  overcome  by  the  dazzling,'  ajijtcar- 


HE   ASKED   NOTHIN'O   OK   THE    RHOWNES. 


ance  of  the  Kajpore  charger,  turned  round  and  trotted  after  him 
and  would  not  be  denied.  In  vain  young  Browne  smote  him 
upon  the  nose,  in  vain  he  wlio  sat  upon  the  ass  abused  with  a 
loud  voice  the  ancestors  of  all  buffaloes,  the  little  bull  fixed  upon 


Till-:    SlMri.l:    AJ)\EXTl'Nl:S   01-    A    Ml.MSAHlli.      jS 


the  fiiar^^^T  ii  look  wliicli  said,  "  Kiitroat  me  not  to  Icavo  thco," 
aiitl  liuiibercd  steadfastly  alongside.  Already  the  little  liuU's 
niarnina,  smelling  desertion  from  the  rear,  had  looked  round 
iiKjuiringly — she  was  in  process  of  turning — she  was  after  them 
horns  down,  tail  straight  out,  and  she  was  conung  fasti  There 
was  very  little  time  for  rellection,  but  it  occurred  irresistibly  to 
both  the  Hrownes  that  the  litth;  bulTs  nnimma  would  not  be 
likely  to  put  the  blame  upon  the  little  bull.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  llight,  therefore,  and  they  lied;  promiscuous  and  fast, 
for  even  the  ponies  appeared  to  understand  that  it  was  an  un- 
pleasant thing  fo  be  ])ursued  by  an  enraged  female  l.ulTalo  for 
the  restitution  of  maternal  rights.  First  the  Hying  l>rownes, 
neck  and  neck  exhorting  each  other  to  calmness,  then  the  bleat- 
ing calf  that  chased  the  Hying  lirownes,  then  the  snorting  cow 
that  chased  the  bleating  calf,  and,  finally,  he  upon  the  ass  who 
chased  them  all,  with  shouts  and  brayings  to  wake  the  mountain- 
side. ]t  was  a  scene  for  the  imperishable  plate  of  a  Kochik  : 
there  was  hardly  time  to  take  it  witli  the  imagination.  As 
his  ideal  departed  from  him  tiie  calf  fell  back  into  tlie  hands, 
as  it  were,  of  his  mother  and  his  master;  and  young  Browne, 
glancing  beliind,  dechirod  with  relief  that  they  were  both  lick- 
ing him. 

They  stopped  to  rest,  to  consume  rpiantitics  of  bread  and  but- 
ter and  hard-boiled  eggs,  to  ask  milk  of  an  out-cropping  village. 
Milk  was  plentiful  in  the  village,  cool  creamy  buffaloes'  milk, 
and  the  price  was  small,  but  from  what  vessel  should  the  sahib 
drink  it?  All  the  round  brass  bowls  that  held  it  were  sacred  to 
the  feeding  of  themselves,  sacred  to  personalities  worth  Jibout 
four  pice  each ;  and  the  lips  of  a  sahib  might  not  defde  them. 
The  outcast  sahib  bought  a  new  little  earthen  pot  for  a  })ice, 
breaking  it  solemnly  on  a  stone  when  they  had    finished  ;  and 


'ti  w 


1ll; 


'■  fi 


I  I 


284       ^"///^"    SIMPIJ']   ADlEXTURliS  OF  A    MEMSAUIB. 

even  mixed  witli  the  taste  of  fired  mud  the  bulTuloes'  milk  waa 
ambrosial. 

On  thoy  went  and  up,  the  trees  shelved  further  down  below 
and  <j;rew  scantier  above;  upon  the  heights  that  rose  before  them 
there  seeini-d  to  be  none  at  all.  Down  where  the  river  was  even- 
ing had  fallen,  and  all  the  hills  behind  stood  in  puri)le,  but  a 
little  white  cluster  still  slionc  sunlit  in  a  notch  above  them. 
Jioophal  pointed  it  out.  "  Tin  cos^''''  *  said  Boophal.  They  has- 
tened on  at  that,  all  six  of  them ;  they  rounded  a  last  Hank,  rat- 
tled over  a  bridge  with  a  foaming  torrent  underneath,  and  found 
themselves  clinging,  with  several  fowls,  oxen,  and  people,  to  the 
side  of  the  gorge  the  torrent  nuule.  The  dak-bungalow  sat  on  a 
ledge  a  hundred  feet  or  so  further  up,  and  the  lirownes  felt  this 
to  be  excessive.  They  climbed  it,  however,  and  entered  into 
peace  at  the  top.  There  was  a  khansamah  and  two  long  chairs, 
there  would  be  dinner.  The  Diagram,  unsaddled  and  fed,  folded 
herself  up  like  a  chest  of  drawers  for  repose ;  but  the  charger 
roamed  up  and  down  seeking  something  to  kick,  and  all  night 
long  at  intervals  they  heard  him  chewing  in  imagination  the  cud 
of  the  buffalo  calf,  neighing,  yawning,  biting  his  under-lip. 

Next  day  they  saw  what  the  creeping  road  had  conquered, 
and  what  it  had  yet  to  conquer.  It  was  no  longer  question  of 
climbing  the  great  hills,  they  were  amongst  the  summits,  they 
walked  upon  the  heights,  behind  them  slope  after  outlying  slope 
rose  up  and  barred  the  way  that  they  liad  come ;  and  yet  the 
parapeted  road,  with  its  endless  loops  and  curves  insisted  up- 
ward, and  the  little  military  slabs  that  stood  by  the  mountain- 
side told  them  that  they  had  still  eighteen,  seventeen,  sixteen 
miles  to  follow  it  before  they  came  to  Chakrata,  whence  they 


* ' 


Three  miles. 


1 


THE    SlMri.E  A  1)1' EX  TC RES   OF  A    MEMSMUB. 


28  5 


Was 


should  see  the  Snows.  Ilelon  found  it  ditlicult  to  believe  that 
the  next  turn  would  not  disclose  them,  tluit  they  were  not  lying 
fair  and  shining  beyond  that  brown  mountain  before  her  to  the 
left— it  was  such  a  prodigious  mountain,  it  niust  l)e  the  last. 
But  always  the  belting  road  sloped  upward  and  disappeared 
again,  always  behind  the  prodigious  brown  mountain  mse  a  more 
prodigious  brown  mountain  still.  They  had  astounding,  soul- 
stretching  views,  these  Brownes,  but  always  around  and  behind 
them ;  before  them  rose  ever  tiie  bulk  of  a  single  mountain,  and 
the  line  of  the  climbing  girdling  road. 

When  God  gave  men  tongues,  he  never  dreamed  that  they 
would  want  to  talk  about  the  Himalayas;  there  are  consequently 
no  words  in  the  world  to  do  it  with.  It  is  given  to  some  of  us, 
as  it  was  given  to  these  Brownes,  thus  to  creep  and  to  climb  up 
into  the  heart  of  them,  to  look  down  over  their  awful  verges  and 
out  upon  the  immensity  of  their  slopes,  to  be  solitary  in  the  stu- 
pendous surging,  heaving  mountain-sea  that  staiuls  mute  and 
vast  here  upon  the  edge  of  the  plains  of  India.  Afterward  these 
people  have  more  privacy  than  the  rest  of  the  world,  for  they 
have  once  been  quite  alone  in  it,  with  perhaps  a  near  boulder 
and  a  dragon-fly.  And  their  privacy  is  the  more  com])letc  be- 
cause there  is  no  password  to  let  another  in — languaj;e  will  not 
compass  it.     So  they  either  babble  foolishly,  or  arc  silent. 

The  Brownes,  in  the  fulness  of  their  hearts,  babbled  foolishly. 
They  wondered  whether  the  white  speck  near  the  top  of  the 
mountain  across  the  ravine  was  a  cow  or  a  house,  and  in  either 
case  how  it  held  on.  They  wondered  what  the  curious  blood-red 
crop  could  be,  that  lay  in  little  square  patches  far  below  them  on 
the  lower  slopes  where  people  had  tiny  farms.  They  wondered 
how  cold  it  was  up  there  in  the  winter — it  was  jolly  cold  now 
when  you  faced  the  wind.     They  found  ox-eyed  daisies  and  other 


286       THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

Christian  flowers  growing  in  clefts  of  the  rock,  and  they  gathered 
these  rejoicing.  They  implored  each  other  to  "  keep  to  the  in- 
side "  in  i^laces  where  the  low  stone  wall  had  been  washed  away, 
and  neither  of  them  dared  to  look  over.  And  they  had  an  ad- 
venture which  to  this  day  Mrs.  Browne  relates  as  blood-curdling. 

It  was  in  rounding  an  old  sunny  corner  in  silent  disai)point- 
ment  at  again  failing  to  find  Chakrata.  Young  Browne,  riding 
first,  noticed  a  loose  pebble  rattle  down  the  side  of  the  rock. 
Mrs.  Browne  insists  that  she  did  not  notice  the  pebble,  and  I 
don't  know  that  it  is  important  to  her  evidence  that  she  should. 
But  she  certainly  noticed  the  leopard,  so  carefully  that  she  never 
will  be  quite  sure  it  wasn't  a  tiger.  She  saw  it  rise  from  its  four 
legs  from  a  ledge  of  rock  above  young  Browne's  head  and  look 
at  young  Browne.  Mrs.  Browne  is  naturally  unable  to  give  any- 
one an  accurate  idea  of  her  emotion  during  the  instant  that  fol- 
lowed, but  she  was  perfectly  certain  that  it  did  not  occur  to 
young  Browne  to  transfix  the  animal  with  his  eye,  and  he  had 
nothing  else.  Neither  it  did,  but  the  situation  did  not  find  Mr. 
Browne  entirely  without  presence  of  mind  notwithstanding. 
Raising  his  whip  in  a  threatening  manner  Mr.  Browne  said 
"  Shoo ! "  and  whatever  may  have  been  the  value  of  that  exple- 
tive in  Mr.  Browne's  mouth  under  ordinary  circumstances,  in 
Mrs.  Browne's  opinion  it  saved  his  life  on  that  occasion.  For 
without  even  an  answering  growl  the  leopard  turned  and  trotted 
into  the  thicket  quickly,  as  if  she  had  forgotten  something. 

"  Did  you  see  that,  Helen  ?  "  inquired  her  husband,  turning 
in  his  st'ddle. 

"I  sh-shoild  think  I  did?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Browne.  W-w- 
w-'wait  for  me,  George ! "  And  as  the  Diagram  came  up  along- 
side, young  Browne  received  several  tearful  embraces,  chiefly 
iipoli  his  arm,  in  the  presence  of  the  syces.    "  I  told  you  you 


!;;■ 


THE  SJAU>LE  AD  VEX  TURKS  OF  A    MEMSAJIIB.      287 

oiiglit  to  have  a  g-g-gun,  darling,  and  you  ivouhhCt  be  advised," 
Mrs.  J5rowiie  reproaclied  liim  hysterically.  "  It's  all  very  well  to 
laugh,  but  thiu-thin-thiuk  of  what  might  have  been  ! " 

"  It's  awful  to  think  of  what  might  have  been  if  I  had  had  a 
gun,"  said  young  Browne  solemnly.  "  In  the  excitement  of  the 
moment  I  should  have  been  certain  to  let  it  go  off,  and  then  she 
would  have  been  down  on  us,  sure.  They  hate  guns  awfully. 
Oh,  we  may  be  thankful  I  hadn't  a  gun  !  " 


288        ^'^^   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


J 


1 1 


PRESENTLY  the^  mot  a  wonderfully  pretty  lady  with  red 
cheeks,  such  red  cheeks  as  all  the  Miss  Peacheys  had  in 
Canbury,  being  swung  along  in  a  dandy  on  the  shoulders  of  four 
stout  coolies.  The  red  cheeks  belonged  to  Chakrata;  they  were 
within  half-a-mile  of  it  then ;  they  would  see  it  before  the  sun 
went  down.  The  road  zig-zagged  a  bit  and  climbed  more 
steeply,  narrowing  hideously  here  and  there.  The  khuds  became 
terrific.  Young  Browne  dismounted  and  walked  at  his  wife's 
bridle,  pushing  lier  pony  close  to  the  mountain-side.  The  preci- 
pices seemed  to  shout  to  them. 

Tliere  was  a  last  outstanding  brown  flank  ;  the  road  hurtled 
round  it,  over  it,  and  then  with  the  greeting  of  a  mighty  torrent 
of  wind  that  seemed  to  come  from  the  other  side  of  the  world  it 
ran  out  upon  a  wide  level  place,  where  a  band  played  and  five 
hundred  soldiers,  in  Her  Majesty's  red,  wheeled  and  marched 
and  countermarched,  it  seemed  to  the  Brownes,  for  pure  light- 
heartedness.  That  was  the  end  ;  there,  grouped  all  about  a  crag 
or  two,  was  Chakrata.  There  across  a  vast  heaving  of  mountains 
to  the  horizon — mountains  that  sank  at  their  feet  and  swelled 
again  and  again  and  again  purple  and  blue — stood  the  still  won- 
der of  the  Snows. 

"  They  aren't  real,"  said  Helen  simply,  "  they're  painted  on 
the  sky." 


I  i 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


289 


The  Browncs  followed  a  path  that  twisted  through  Cliakrata, 
and  in  course  of  time  they  came  to  a  little  out-cropping  wooden 
diamond-paned  chalet,  with  wide  brown  eaves  that  overhung 
eternity  and  looked  toward  the  Snows.  It  was  a  tiny  toy  dak- 
bungalow,  and  English  dahlias,  red  and  purple  and  yellow  and 
white,  grew  in  clumps  and  thickets  tall  and  wild  around  it. 
Here  they  entered  in  and  demanded  a  great  fire  and  a  cake ; 
while  a  grey  furred  cloud,  flying  low  with  her  sisters,  blotted  out 
the  Snows,  and  darkness,  coming  up  from  the  valleys,  caught 
them  upon  the  mountain-top. 

Distinct  and  unusual  joys  awaited  them  in  the  morning. 
The  fire  had  gone  out  for  one  thing,  and  they  shivered  luxurious 
shivers  at  the  prospect  of  getting  up  without  one.  They  enjoyed 
every  shiver  and  prolonged  it.  How  little  one  thought  of  being 
thankful  for  that  sort  of  thing  in  England,  Helen  remarked,  with 
little  sniffs  at  the  frosty  air ;  and  young  Browne  said  "  No,  by 
Jove,"  and  how  one  hated  the  idea  of  one's  tub.  Oh,  delight- 
fully cold  it  was,  snapping  cold,  squeaking  cold  !  Helen  showed 
her  hands  blue  after  washing  them,  and  they  tumbled  through 
their  respective  toilettes  like  a  couple  of  school  children.  It  was 
so  long  since  they  had  been  cold  before. 

At  breakfast  the  butter  was  chippy,  and  that  in  itself  was  a 
ravishing  thing.  At  what  time  of  year,  they  asked  each  other, 
would  butter  ever  stand  alone  without  ice  in  Bengal.  And  their 
fingers  were  numb — actually  numb ;  could  anything  have  been 
more  agreeable,  except  to  sit  in  the  sun  on  the  little  veranda,  as 
they  afterwards  did,  and  get  them  warm  again  !  There,  without 
moving,  they  could  watch  that  magical  drifted  white  picture  in 
the  sky,  so  pure  as  to  be  beyond  all  painting,  so  lifted  up  as  to 
be  beyond  all  imagination.  A  ragged  walluut-tree  clung  to  the 
edge  of  the  cliff ;   the  wind  shook  the  last  of  its  blackening 


290 


77/A    SIMPLE   ADVEXTURES   OF  A    MEM SA II Hi. 


■I 


leaves;  tlio  vast,  wheeling  sky  was  blue  and  empty,  exeept  of  the 
Snows,  and  tlie  dalilias  had  trooped  to  the  verge  to  look,  so  tliut 
the  sun  shone  tli rough  their  petals  with  the  light  of  wine.  It  is 
their  remotenes  ,  tiieir  unapproaehableness,  that  make  these 
Himalayan  Snows  a  sanctuary.  From  the  foot  of  man  any- 
where they  are  prodigiously  far  off,  so  that  they  look  to  him  al- 
ways tlie  country  of  a  dream  just  hanging  above  the  woi'ld  he 
knows,  or  if  he  be  of  prayerful  mind,  the  Habitation  of  the  Holi- 
ness of  the  Lord.  And  since  it  is  permitted  to  us  that  by  moun- 
tain and  by  valley  we  may  journey  to  look  upon  the  Snows,  even 
from  very  far  otT,  our  souls  do  not  perish  utterly  in  India,  and 
our  exile  is  not  entirely  without  its  possession. 

The  Brownes  had  only  two  days  in  Chakrata,  which  they  em- 
ployed chiefly  as  I  have  mentioned — sitting  in  the  sun  devout 
before  the  Himalayas,  or  ecstatically  blowing  upon  their  Angers. 
They  made  one  expedition  to  see  a  pair  of  friends  whom  the 
merciful  tlecree  of  Providence  had  recently  brought  up  from  the 
Plains  for  g<Kxl,  and  found  them  laying  in  coal  and  flour  for  the 
winter,  which  made  them  quite  silent  for  a  moment  with  sup- 
pressed feeling.  "  I  hope,"  said  young  Browne  flippantly,  to 
conceal  his  emotion,  "  that  on  the  event  of  other  stores  giving 
out  you  have  plenty  of  candles.     They  are  sustaining  in  an  emer- 


gency 


,  " 


And  as  tliey  made  their  thoughtful  way  on  pony-back  to  the 
brown  wooden  chalet,  Helen  observed  upon  her  riding  habit 
some  clustering  spots  of  white,  that  multiplied  and  thickened, 
and  she  gathered  them  up  between  her  fingers  with  a  delighted 
cry.  "  George,  dearest,  look !  We're  being  snowed  on — in 
India!" 

All  of  which  was  doubtless  verv  trivial,  but  thev  were  not  re- 
markable  people,  these  Brownes ;  from  the  first  I  told  you  so. 


I 


II 


i: 


n 


I 


292       THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEM  SAHIB, 

And  though  they  found  this  journey  of  theirs  brimful  of  the  ex- 
traordinary, the  unparalleled,  there  was  really  only  one  remark- 
able thing  about  it,  which  was  the  dignified  and  self-reliant  con- 
duct of  the  ekka.  The  ekka  had  always  gone  before,  overflow- 
ing with  their  goods  and  crowned  with  Kasi  in  cross-legged 
pomp.  They  had  traced  its  wavering  progress  by  ends  of 
ravelled  rope,  and  splinters  of  wood,  and  scraps  of  worn-out 
leather  which  lay  behind  in  the  road  to  testify  of  it ;  and  grave 
as  had  been  their  apprehensions,  they  had  never  overtaken  it  in 
a  state  of  collapse.  Invariably  when  they  arrived  they  found  the 
ekka  disburthened,  tipped  up  under  a  tree,  the  ekka  pony  brows- 
ing with  a  good  conscience,  Kasi  awaiting  with  an  air  which 
asked  for  congratulation.  IIovv  it  held  together  was  a  miracle 
which  repeated  itself  hourly ;  but  it  did  hold  together,  and  in- 
spired such  confidence  in  young  Browne  that  he  proposed,  when 
she  tired  of  the  Diagram,  to  deposit  Mrs.  Browne  in  the  ekka 
also.  This,  however,  was  declined.  Mrs.  Browne  said  that  she 
had  neither  the  heart  nor  the  nerves  for  it ;  in  which  case,  of 
course,  an  emergency  would  find  her  quite  anatomically  unpre- 
pared. 

Leaving  the  Snows  with  grief,  therefore,  they  left  the  ekka 
with  trusting  faith.  There  had  been  a  hitch  in  the  process  of 
packing,  examination,  consultation.  The  sahib,  inquiring,  had 
been  told  that  one  of  the  wheels  was  "a  little  sick."  It  was  an 
excellent  ekka — an  ekka  with  all  the  qualities ;  the  other  wheel 
was  quite  new,  and  you  did  not  often  find  an  ekka  with  an 
entirely  new  wheel !  But  the  other  was  certainly  a  little  old, 
and  after  these  many  miles  a  little  sick.  Young  Browne  diag- 
nosed the  suffering  wheel,  and  made  a  serious  report ;  there  were 
internal  complications,  and  the  tire  had  already  been  off  seven 
times.     Besides,  it   wouldn't  stand  up ;    obviously   it  was   not 


i: 


THE    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAJIID. 


293 


shamming,  the  purana  chticker*  was  taken  bad,  very  bad  in- 
deed.  Its  cure  could  be  accomplislied,  however,  with  wet  cliip8 
and  a  hammer — and  time.  If  the  sahib  would  permit,  the  ekka 
would  follow  in  half  an  hour. 

So  the  Brownes  departed  gaily,  and  an  hour  and  three- 
quarters  later  the  ekka  tottered  forth  also,  with  Kasi  and  tho 
ekka-wallah  walking  lamentably  alongside  exchanging  compli- 
ments upon  the  subject  of  the  wheel.  They  travelled  three 
miles  and  an  hour  thus,  and  then  the  wheel  had  a  sudden  re- 
lapse, with  signs  of  dissolution ;  while  young  Browne's  dressing- 
case,  which  happenc'd  to  be  on  top,  shot  precipitately  first  into 
space  and  then  into  the  topmost  branches  of  a  wild  cherry- 
tree  growing  three  thousand  feet  down  the  khud.  The  ekka 
pony  planted  his  feet  in  tho  road-bed  and  looked  round  for 
directions  ;  the  ekka-wallah  groaned  and  sat  down.  "  And  the 
sahib,  0,  my  brother-in-law ! "  exclaimed  Kasi,  dancing  round 
the  ekka. 

"  The  sahib  is  in  the  hand  of  God  ! "  returned  the  ekka-wal- 
lah piously.  "  To-day  I  have  been  much  troubled.  I  will  smoke." 
And  while  the  Brownes,  at  Saia,  remotely  lower  down,  grew 
chilly  with  vain  watching  in  the  shadows  that  lengthened  through 
the  kliuds,  the  weary  ekka  leaned  peacefully  against  the  moun- 
tain wall,  the  ekka-wallah  drew  long  comfort  from  his  hubble- 
bubble,  and  Kasi  reposed  also  by  the  wayside,  chewing  the  pun- 
gent betel,  and  thinking,  with  a  meditative  eye  on  the  wild 
cherry-tree  below,  hard  things  of  fate. 

Nevertheless,  without  the  direct  interposition  of  Providence, 
the  ekka  eventually  arrived,  and  there  was  peace  in  one  end  of 
the  dak-bungalow,  and  the  crackling  of  sari  branches,  and  the 

*  Old  wheel. 


Hi 


'  I 


294 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTUKES  OE  A    MEMSAIllB. 


siinmoring  of  tiiino(^  hotch-potcli.  In  tlio  other  end  wjis  wrath, 
jiiul  a  pair  of  Hoyjil  Fiii<j;iiicH'rs — a  hi«i^  Itoyal  Kn<;iiH'i'r  and  a 
little  Royal  Knginocr.  To  undorstaiid  why  wrath  slionld  abide 
with  those  two  Royal  Engineers  in  their  end  of  the  bungalow, 
it  is  necessary  to  understand  that  it  was  not  an  ordinary  travel- 
lers' bungalow,  but  a  "Military  Works'"  bungalow,  their  very 
own  bungalow,  for  "  Militarv  Works"  and  "  JJoval  Kngineers  " 
mean  the  same  thing;  and  that  ordinary  travellers  were  only 
allowed  to  take  shelter  there  by  s[)ccial  ])erniission  or  under 
stress  of  weather.  By  their  proper  rights,  therefore,  these  Royal 
Engineers  should  have  had  both  ends  of  the  bungalow,  and 
the  middle,  and  the  compound,  and  the  village,  and  a  few  miles 
of  the  road  north  and  south — and  a  little  privacy.  If  these 
ideas  seem  a  triiie  large,  it  becomes  necessary  to  try  to  under- 
stand, at  least  approxinuitely,  what  a  Royal  Engineer  is,  where 
he  comes  from,  to  what  dignities  and  emoluments  he  may  asi)ire. 
And  then,  when  we  have  looked  upon  the  buttons  which  reflect 
his  shining  past,  and  considered  the  breadth  of  his  shoulders 
and  the  straightncss  of  his  legs,  and  the  probable  expense  he 
has  been  as  a  whole  to  his  parents  and  his  country,  we  will  easily 
bring  ourselves  to  ju^-nit  that  he  is  entirely  right  in  considering 
himself  quite  the  most  swagger  article  in  ordinary  Government 
service  in  India.  We  may  even  share  his  pardonable  incre- 
dulity as  to  whether  before  his  advent  India  was  at  all.  And 
certainly  we  will  sympathise  with  the  haughtily  impatient  ex- 
pletives with  which  he  would  naturally  greet  pretensions  to 
circumscribe  his  vested  rights  in  the  Himalayan  mountains 
on  the  part  of  two  absurdly  unimportant  and  superfluous 
Brownes. 

The  Brownes  in  their  end  heard  the  two  Royal  Engineers 
kicking  the  fire  logs  in  theirs,  and  conversing  with  that  brevity 


r 


THE    SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEMSAlllH. 


295 


;  wrath, 
•  and  a 
il  tibidc 
ngiilow, 
'  Inivcl- 
}ir  very 

illOOl'H  " 

re  only 
r  luuler 
e  Royal 
)w,  and 
\v  niile>^ 
[f  these 
under- 
S  where 
^  aspire. 
[1  reflect 
loulders 
ense  he 
11  easily 
sideriiig 
3rnment 
)  incre- 
1.  And 
lent  ex- 
sions  to 
)untains 
lerfluons 


ngineers 
:  brevity 


and  suppression  which  always  marks  a  Royal  Knginccr  under 
circumstances  where  ordinary  people  would  he  abusively 
fluent.  Apparently  they  had  command  of  themselves,  they 
were  JJoyal  Kngineers,  they  weren't  saying  much,  but  it  was 
vigorous  the  way  they  kicked  the  fire.  The  Brownes  wen;  still 
as  mice,  and  absorbed  their  soup  with  hearts  that  grew  ever 
heavier  with  a  grievous  sense  of  wrong  inflicted  not  only  upon 
their  neighbour  but  upon  a  Royal  Engineer ! 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  you  know,"  said  young  Browne, 
"  we've  no  business  here.  1  think  1  ought  to  go  and  speak  to 
them." 

"  We've  got  permission,"  remarked  Mrs.  lirownc  feebly, 
'*  and  we  were  here  first." 

"  I'm  afraid,"  said  young  lirowne,  "  that  we  have  the  best 
end,  and  we've  certainly  got  th(3  lamp.  Maybe  they  would  like 
the  lamp.  I  think  I  ought  first  to  go  and  see  them.  After  all, 
it's  their  bungalow." 

Young  Browne  came  back  presently  twisting  the  end  of  liis 
moustache.  It  was  an  unconscious  imitation  of  the  Royal  Engi- 
neers acquired  during  their  short  and  embarrassed  interview. 

"Well?"  said  Helen. 

"Oh,  it's  all  right.  They  don't  particularly  mind.  They 
accepted  my  apology — confound  them  !  And  they  iroidd  like 
the  lamp — their's  smokes.  They're  marching,  like  us,  down  to 
Saharanpore,  inspecting  the  road  or  something,  and  fishing.  No 
end  of  a  good  time  those  chaps  have." 

"  What  are  their  names?  " 

"  Haven't  the  least  idea — they're  Royal  p]ngineers." 

"  Well,"  returned  Mrs.  Browne  disconsolately,  "  what  are  we 
to  do  when  you  give  them  the  buttie?" 

"  Go  to  bed,"  returned  her  lord  laconically. 


296      THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAIIIB. 

Mrs.  Browne  prepared,  therefore,  for  repose,  and  while  Mr. 
Browne  yiehled  up  the  lamp  there  reached  her  from  the  other 
end  of  the  hungalow  tiie  inelfable  condescension  of  a  Koyal  En- 
gineer, who  said  "  Thanks  awfully." 

They  were  gone  in  the  morning ;  the  Brownes  heard  from 
tlie  kluinsamah  tliat  the  burra-sahibs  had  departed  at  daylight, 
and  the  very  burra  of  the  burra-sahibs  rode  a  white  horse.  The 
Brownes  were  glad  these  particularly  burra-sahibs  had  gone ; 
they  found  they  preferred  to  bo  entertained  by  the  ^Military 
Works  Department  in  the  abstract.  "  They  probably  mean  to 
ride  a  long  way  to-day,  starting  so  early,"  said  Helen  hopefully- 
"We  won't  find  them  at  Futtehpore."  It  was  unreasonable  in 
the  Brownes;  they  had  no  grievance  against  these  Royal  En- 
gineers, and  yet  they  desired  exceedingly  that  somewhere,  any- 
where, their  ways  should  diverge ;  and  there  is  no  doubt  what- 
ever that  the  Koyal  Engineers  would  have  heartily  recommended 
a  change  of  route  to  the  Brownes.  Unfortunately  there  vras 
only  one,  and  it  lay  before  them  unravelling  down  among  the 
hills  to  Futtehpore.  It  was  such  glorious  cantering,  though, 
that  these  inconsiderable  civil  little  Brownes  on  their  bazar  tats, 
all  agog  with  their  holiday,  almost  forgot  the  possible  recurrence 
of  the  Royal  Engineer.  lie  became  a  small  cloud  on  the  horizon 
of  their  joyous  day ;  he  would  probably  vanish  before  evening. 
So  that  the  sun  shone  and  the  doves  cooed  and  the  crested 
hoopoe  ran  across  the  path,  of  what  import  was  a  Royal  En- 
gineer— or  even  two?  So  the  Brownes  rode  valiantly  down 
among  the  hills,  she  upon  her  Diagram  and  he  upon  the  charger 
of  Rajpore,  and  when  they  really  went  with  wings  and  glory,  the 
syce-boys  running  behind  attached  themselves  to  the  tails  of  the 
Diagram  and  the  charger  of  Rajpore  respectively,  relieving  their 
own  legs  and  adding  greatly  to  the  imposing  character  of  the 


7. 

lilc  Mr. 
ic  other 
•val  Ell- 

V 

I'd  from 
ayliglit, 
e.  The 
1  gone ; 
Military 
mean  to 
ipcfully- 
liable  in 
)yal  En- 
•re,  any- 
3t  what- 
mended 
ere  v/as 
long  the 
though, 
zar  tats, 
3urrence 

horizon 
evening. 

crested 
)yal  En- 
iy   down 

charger 
lory,  the 
Is  of  the 
ing  their 
er  of  the 


U 
< 


1 

o 


?! 

O 

B! 
U 


f 


2(;8 


/•///';    SIMPLE  ADVENTUKES  OF  A    MEMSAHIH. 


cjiviilcjuk-.  Ami  so  tlioy  wont  down,  down,  wlioro  i)iir|)Ii'-vi'inrd 
bt'goniiis  grow  boside  the  courso  of  tlio  springs,  unci  tall  troos 
lluttorod  tlioir  ghostly  wliito  louvos  ovor  tlio  vorgo,  sind  orchids 
blooinod  on  dead  branchos  up  ovorhcad.  As  thoy  wont  thoy  mot 
an  invalid  boing  takon  to  ('hakrata  for  ohango  of  air  and  soono. 
IIo  rodo  in  a  dandy  evidontly  mado  for  his  spooial  accommoda- 
tion, oarriod  by  two  ooolios;  and  a  chuprassio  attonded  him,  a 
beautiful  chuprassio  with  a  rod  sash  and  a  modal.  Tho  invalid 
looked  at  tho  lirownes  in  a  way  that  askod  their  solicitude,  but 
he  made  them  no  salutation  because  he  was  only  a  big  brown 
and  white  nuistilT,  and  besides,  he  didn't  fool  up  to  promiscuous 
conversation  with  strangers  who  might  or  might  not  be  desir- 
able. ]iut  when  young  Browne  stopped  the  chuprassio  and  the 
coolies,  and  called  him  "  old  fellow  "  and  asked  him  where  he 
was  going  and  how  he  had  stood  the  journey,  he  gave  young 
lirowne  a  paw  and  a  depreciating  turn  of  his  head  over  the 
dandy  which  distinctly  said,  "Liver  complications.  We  all  come 
to  it.  Your  turn  next  hot  weather.  This  country  isn't  fit  for  a 
Christian  to  live  in!  "  and  one  more  homesick  alien  passed  on  to 
look  for  his  lost  well-being  in  the  Hills.  Mrs.  Browne  hoped  he 
would  find  it,  he  was  such  a  dear  dog. 


1 


THE   SIMPLE   Al>\'E\TrRES   OE  A    MEMSAI/Ui. 


-99 


('IIAP'I'KIJ   .wvir. 


ri'lIIM  lirowiiCvS  li;i(l  left  tlie  sunset  Ik'IiuhI  tlicm  red  iipoti  tlic 
-L  hei^'hls  wlieii  tliey  reached  Fnttelipore,  but  tliere  was  still 
light  eiH)u;^li  for  tliem  to  descry  a  white  liorse  from  afar,  brows- 
ing in  the  coinj)ound,  and  tliey  looked  at  each  other  in  unalTected 
melancholy,  saying,  "They're  here."  Jf  they  wanted  further 
evidence  they  had  it  in  the  person  of  the  khansainah,  who  ran 
forth  wagging  his  beard,  and  exclaiming  that  there  was  no  room 
— how  should  there  be  any  room  for  these  Presences  from  with- 
out, when  two  Engineer-sahibs  had  already  come  !  Among  his 
other  duties  one  Engineer-sahib  had  to  report  the  shorteonnngs 
of  this  khansamah.  Should  it  be  written  among  tliem  that  the 
Engineer-sahib  was  rendered  uncomfortable  in  his  own  house  ! 
Ah,  that  the  Prcvsence  could  be  persuaded  that  there  was  anotiier 
bungalow  five  miles  further  on,  which  the  Presence  knew  per- 
fectly well  there  w^as  not. 

"Khansamah,"  replied  young  Browne,  "two  sahibs  do  not 
require  four  apartments  and  all  the  beds.  Go  aiul  make  it  right; 
and,  look  you,  bring  a  long  chair  for  the  memsahib  that  thy  back 
be  not  smitten,"  for  by  this  time  the  heart  of  (Jeorge  l^rowne,  of 
Macintyre  and  Ma^intyre's,  Calcutta,  had  waxed  hot  within  him 
by  reason  of  Royal  J]ngineers. 

The  khansamah  returned  presently  and  announced  that  the 
Presences  might  have  beds,  but  a  long  chair — here  the  khansamah 
held  his  back  well  behind  him  that  it  should  not  be  smitten — he 


300 


TJIE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OF  A   MEM  SAHIB. 


could  not  give,  for  the  biirra  Eiiginoer-sahib  sat  upon  the  one, 
and  the  <jliota  Engineer-sahib  sat  upon  the  other.  Yes,  they 
could  have  something  to  cat,  when  the  Engineer-sahibs  liad 
(lined  ;  but  tliere  would  not  bo  time  to  prepare  it  before — the 
Engineer-sahibs  had  commanded  dinner  in  one  hour,  lie  would 
see  if  a  fire  was  possible — it  might  be  that  the  Eugineer-sahibs 
re([uired  all  the  dry  wood.  It  was  presently  obvious  that  they 
did,  and  as  young  Browne  and  Kasi  struggled  unavailingly  with 
an  armful  of  green  sari  and  a  year-old  copy  of  the  Ovarland 
Mail.,  that  gentleman  might  have  been  overheard  to  remark 
roundly  in  the  smoke  and  the  gloom,  '"'■Damn  the  Engineer- 
sahibs  !" 

Next  morning  the  white  horse  was  still  in  the  stable  when 
young  Browne  s*:ep])ed  out  upon  the  veranda,  and  the  Royal 
Engineer  stood  there  smoking  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his 
legs  describing  a  Royal  Engineering  angle.  He  said  "  Morning ! " 
with  a  certain  affability  to  young  Browne,  who  made  a  lukewarm 
response. 

"  Think  of  getting  on  to-day?"  inquired  the  R.  E. 

"Oh,  yes,"  Mr.  Browne  replied.  "We  must.  We're  due  at 
Saharanpore  Eriday." 

"Aw!  same  with  us.  Bagshiabag  to-day,  Kalsia  to-morrow, 
Saharnwpore  Friday," 

"  Exactly  our  programme,"  said  young  Browne  with  firmness. 

"Aw!     Ilown'for'tchnit!" 

"Is  it?" 

"  Well,  yes,  rather.  Y'see  it  was  all  right  at  Saia,  and  it's  all 
right  here,  but  at  Kalsia  there'll  be  Mrs.  Prinny  of  the  9Tth,  and 
Mrs.  Prinny's  got  baby,  and  baby's  got  nu.  e.  That'll  be  rather 
tight,  waoutiH  it?"  and  the  Royal  Engineer  removed  a  cigar  ash 
from  his  pyjamas. 


! 
1 


I 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES   OE  A    MEMSAHIH.       301 

"Now  if  cither  Of  us  should  pusli  on  to  Kulsiu  to-duv,"  lie 
coutimicd  iiisiuuatiiicrlv. 
'i'hore  was  a,  pause. 

"  It's  awkward  for  m,  y'see,"  continued  the  W,  E.,  "  because 
we're  fisliinc:." 

"How  fir  is  it?" 

"  'Bout  twenty-six  miles." 

"  H'm  !     Rather  long  march  for  a  lady." 

"Oh,  yes-it  would  be  /o.>/^,"  responded  the  Koyal  En<nneer 
with  an  irresponsible  air,  «  but  then  think  of  that  awfurnurso 
an'  baby." 

A  quarter  of  an  hour   later   the    IJrownes  were  off   a-ain 
Crossing  a  bridge  they  passed  the  two  Royal  Engineers  siUi^r 
upon  one   of    the  buttresses    examining    their   fisiung  tr^ckl^ 
"  We're  going  to  see  if  we  can  manage  it,"  remarked  youn.r 
Browne.     "  Good  mornino-."  ° 

The  larger  and  finer  of  the  Royal  Engineers  looked  up. 
"Aw,"  said  he,  "mustn't  over-do  it,  y'know." 

"  We  won't,"  returned  young  Browne. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  they  didn't.  Arrived  at  Bagshiabag,  .Afrs. 
Browne  declared  herself  very  nearly  dead,  the  Diagram  had  been 
more  diagrammatic  than  usual.  She  would  rest,  and  "  see  "  if 
she  felt  equal  to  going  on. 

"  I'm  blowed  if  you  sh.all,"  said  her  lord,  "  not  for  all  the 
R.  E.'s  in  Asia."  So  they  peacefully  put  up  in  their  choice  of 
ends  this  time,  and  made  an  impartial  division  of  the  furniture 
and  after  tea  went  for  a  walk.  It  was  the  very  last  station  on 
the  edge  of  the  hills;  the  plains  began  at  their  very  feet  to  roll 
away  into  unbroken,  illimitable  misty  distances.  Bagshiaba-- 
the  King's  garden-the  palm-fringed  plains  that  were  doubtLs 
fair  m  the  King's  sight.     The  Brownes  looked  at  them  sorrow- 


m 


302       ^'//-^^    SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

ing ;  it  requires  an  Oriental  imagination  to  admire  the  King's 
garden  from  an  in.side  point  of  view. 

"  We  must  start  early  to-morrow,"  said  young  Browne  regret- 
fully.    "  It  will  be  hot." 

Returning  they  found  the  two  Koyal  Engineers  refreshing 
themselves  under  a  mango-tree  in  the  compound,  surrounded  by 
everything  that  appertained  to  the  establishment,  and  wearing 
an  expression  of  god-like  injury,  "  We  didn't  get  on,  after  all," 
said  young  Browne,  as  he  passed  them  with  what  countenance  he 
could.  The  Royal  Engineers  looked  at  him  and  smiled  a  recti- 
linear smile.  "  No,"  they  said.  It  was  not  much  to  say,  but  there 
was  a  compulsion  in  it  that  awoke  the  Brownes  before  daylight 
next  morning  and  put  them  in  their  saddles  at  sunrise.  By  ten 
o'clock  the  last  blue  ridge  had  faded  out  of  the  sky-line,  by 
eleven  they  were  in  Kalsia — not  Kalsi  of  the  Doon — in  the  midst 
of  a  great  flatness.  The  ekka  with  tne  tiffin  basket  was  behind 
upon  the  road.  They  would  wait  there  till  it  came,  and  then 
make  up  their  minds  about  pushing  on  to  Saharanpore.  The 
ady  with  the  nurse  and  baby  was  no  fiction;  she  was  coming  by 
diik-gharry  at  three  o'clock,  the  khansamah  said.  And  could 
the  Presence  give  him  any  tidings  of  the  Engineer-sahibs  who 
were  on  the  way?  He  had  been  in  readiness  for  the  Engineer- 
sahibs  these  three  days.  The  Presence  could  give  him  no  tidings 
whatever  of  the  Engineer-sahibs.  lie  thought  very  likely  they 
were  dead.  Numbers  of  people  had  died  in  India  in  the  last 
three  days,  and  the  Presence  assuredly  did  not  wish  any  talk  of 
the  Engineer-sahibs.  "What  is  there  to  eat?"  asked  the  Pres- 
ence. And  if  there  was  only  milk  and  eggs  and  c^ripatties — the 
sahibs  generally  bringing  their  own  food  to  this  place — then  let 
it  be  served  instantly,  to  be  in  readiness  when  the  ekka  should 
appear.     And  it  was  served.     But  the  khansamah  had  lived  a 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


303 


great  many  years  upon  the  earth,  and,  moreover,  lie  liad  privately 
questioned  the  syce-boys,  so  that  he  knew  of  the  coming  of  the 
Engineer-sahibs,  lie  knew,  too,  that  it  would  not  be  good, 
either  for  his  temporal  or  his  eternal  happiness,  that  the  En- 
gineer-sahibs should  find  four  people  and  a  baby  in  their  house 
when  they  arrived.  Therefore  the  khansamah,  being  full  of 
guile  as  of  years,  sent  an  open-faced  one  privily  to  the  turning  of 
the  lane  into  the  road,  who  gave  word  to  Kasi  and  to  the  ekka- 
wallah  that  the  sahibs — the  Browne  sahibs — had  gone  on  to 
Saharanpore,  and  they  were  by  no  means  to  tarry  at  Kalsia,  but 
to  hasten  on  after.  Believing  this  word,  Kasi  and  the  ekka- 
wallah,  while  the  Brownes  famished  upon  the  veranda,  were 
drawing  ever  nearer  to  Saharanpore. 

It  is  difficult  to  make  a  meal  of  eggs  and  milk  and  chupat- 
ties,  but  the  Brownes  found  that  it  could  be  done,  even  when 
because  of  anger  it  is  the  more  indigestible.  They  found  an 
unexpected  and  delightful  solace,  however,  afterward  in  Saha- 
ranpore. The  place  was  full  of  the  southward  bound,  a  regi- 
ment was  on  the  move,  all  Mussoorie  had  emptied  itself  in  dak- 
gharries  upon  the  station.  Nevertheless,  Kasi  the  invaluable 
had  intrigued  for  a  room  for  them,  a  room  that  opened  upon  a 
veranda,  with  a  lamp  in  it,  and  a  smoking  dinner.  Kasi  was 
the  more  invaluable  for  being  conscience-stricken  at  having 
swallowed  false  talk.  And  there  is  no  Military  Works  bungalow 
in  Saharanpore,  which  is  a  station  built  primarily  and  almost 
wholly  for  the  use  of  the  general  public.  The  joy  of  these 
unregenerate  Brownes,  therefore,  upon  seeing  a  white  horse 
vainly  walk  up  to  this  veranda  and  hearing  a  hungry  voice,  the 
voice  of  the  Royal  Engineer,  vainly  inquire  for  rooms  and 
dinner,  was  keen  and  excessive. 

"  They've  funked  the  baby  after  all ! "  said  young  Browne, 


ml 


304       T/ZE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


"thinking  we  wouldn't.  Now  they'll  become  acquainted  with 
the  emotions  of  the  ordinary  travelling  public  in  a  congested 
district.  Hope  they'll  enjoy  'em  as  much  as  we  did,  Nellie. 
I'm  going  to  have  a  bottle  of  beer." 

And  if  the  Royal  Engireer  outside  in  the  dark,  where  it  was 
getting  chilly,  could  be  susceptible  to  a  note  of  triumph,  he 
heard  it  in  the  pop  of  the  Pilsener  with  which  on  this  occasion 
Mr.  George  Browne  fortified  his  opinion  of  Royal  Engineers  at 
large. 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVEXTUKES   OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 


305 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

Y^^'  ^ig^i<^  have  read  in  this  morning's  EmjUshman,  in  tlie 
list  of  passengers  booked  per  P.  and  0.  steamer  Gamm 
sailmg  3d   April,  "  Mr.  and   Mrs.   Perth  Maeintyre  and   Miss 
Macalister,  for  Brindisi."     Miss   Macalister  is  a  niece  of  the 
Perth  Macintyres.     She  has  been  out  two  years  and  a  half,  and 
so  far  as  her  opportunities  are  concerned,  we  have  nothino-  to 
reproach  ourselves  with.     For  the  first  time  in  fifteen  years  we 
have  attended  tlie  subscription  dances  to  take  her,  and  did  not 
shirk  the  fancy  dress  ball,  Mr.  Perth  Maeintyre  going  as  Falstalf, 
for  her  sake.     At  our  time  of  life  this  is  a  great  deal  of  exertion 
for  a  niece,  and  I  consider,  if  such  things  are  possible,  Mr.  Perth 
Macintyre's  deceased  sister  ought  to  have  felt  gratification  at 
what  we  did.     Nevertheless,  I  have  not  had  occasion  to  mention 
Miss  Macalister  before,  and  it  is  only  in  connection  with  her 
return-ticket  that  I  mention  her  now.     It  represents  an  outlay 
which  we  did  not  expect  to  bo  obliged  to  make. 

We  are  due  in  England  about  the  1st  of  Mav,  when  we  will 
endeavour  to  find  the  warmest  south  wall  in^Devonshire-I 
shiver  at  the  thought-and  hang  ourselves  up  on  it.  As  the 
summer  advances  and  the  conditions  of  temperature  in  Great 
Britain  become  less  severe,  we  will  make  an  effort  to  visit  the 
parental  Peacheys  in  Canbury,  if  neither  of  us  have  previously 
succumbed  to  influenza;  in  which  case  the  box  of  chutnevs  and 
guava  jelly  that  the  Brownes  have  charged  us  to  deliver  will  be 


r 


306       THE    SIMI'l.E   ADVEMTURES  OE  A    MEMSAIIIB. 

sent  by  luggage  train.  Tlie  survivor — wo  expect  there  wiii  be  at 
least  a  temporary  survivor — is  to  attend  to  this. 

It  will  make  a  difference  to  the  Browncs,  our  going,  the  dif- 
ference of  a  junior  partnership  ;  and  although  I  hope  I  have  a 
correct  idea  of  the  charms  of  our  society,  I  fully  expect  that 
their  grief  at  our  departure  will  be  tempered  by  this  considera- 
tion. Some  one  of  our  administrators  is  always  being  quoted  in 
the  newspapers  as  having  called  .^ndia  "  a  land  of  regrets."  It  is 
to  be  feared,  however,  that  the  regrets  are  felt  exclusively  by 
those  who  are  going.  The  satisfactions  of  retirement  are  ob- 
scure, and  the  prospect  of  devoting  a  shrunken  end  of  existence 
to  the  solicitous  avoidance  of  bronchitis  is  not  inviting.  Where- 
as it  is  always  to  somebody's  profit  that  an  Englishman  leaves 
India,  and  he  is  so  accustomed  to  the  irony  of  the  idea  of  being 
his  own  chief  mourner,  that  he  would  suspect  the  deeply-afflicted 
at  his  going  of  more  than  the  nsual  mana}uvres  to  obtain  his 
shoes.  The  Brownes  are  very  pleased,  undisguisedly  very 
pleased,  though  Mrs.  Browne  has  condoled  with  me  sincerely,  in 
private,  on  the  subject  of  Miss  Macalister;  and  we  quite  under- 
stand it. 

There  is  nothing,  on  the  other  hand,  to  mitigate  our  regret 
at  parting  with  the  Brownes,  which  is  lively.  I  may  not  have 
been  able  to  make  it  plain  in  these  few  score  pages,  but  I  like 
the  Brownes.  They  are  nice  young  people,  and  my  advice  has 
been  so  often  useful  to  them.  As  the  wife  of  the  junior  partner 
in  Macintyre  and  Macintyre's,  Mrs.  Browne  will  be  obliged  to 
depend  upon  her  own  for  the  future ;  but  I  am  leaving  her  a 
good  deal  to  go  on  with,  and  a  certain  proportion  of  our  draw- 
ing-room furniture  as  well,  which  she  will  find  equally  useful. 
I  inherited  it  myself  from  Mrs.  J.  Mucintyre ;  it  has  been  a  long 
time  in  the  firm.     Further,  we  have  put  off  sailing  for  a  fort- 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES   OF  A    MEMSAHlli. 


307 


niglit  so  that  I  can  be  godmother  in  person  to  the  Rrowne  baby, 
for  whose  prospective  future  I  knitted  tifteen  i)airs  of  socks  tliis 
last  cold  weather;  and  that  I  consider  the  tinal  proof  of  our 
regard. 

If  it  is  necessary  to  explain  my  interest  in  tlu'se  young 
Brownes,  which  yon,  I  regret  to  think,  may  tind  inex})licable,  it 
lies,  I  dare  say,  as  much  in  this  departure  of  ours  as  in  anything 
else.  Their  first  chapter  has  been  our  last.  When  you  turn 
down  the  page  upon  the  Brownes  you  close  the  book  upon  the 
Perth  Macintyres,  and  it  has  been  f)leasant  to  me  that  our  story 
should  find  its  end  in  the  beginning  of  theirs.  If  this  is  not 
excuse  enough,  there  is  a  sentimental  one  besides.  P^'or  I  also 
have  seen  a  day  when  the  spell  of  India  was  strong  upon  my 
youth,  when  I  saw  romance  under  a  turban  and  soft  magic  be- 
hind a  palm,  and  found  the  most  fascinating  occupation  in  life 
to  be  the  wasting  of  my  husband's  substance  among  the  gabbling 
thieves  of  the  China  bazar.  It  was  all  new  to  me  once — I  had 
forgotten  how  new  until  I  saw  the  old  novelty  in  the  eyes  of 
Helen  Browne.  Then  I  thought  of  reading  the  first  pages  of 
the  Anglo-Indian  book  again  with  those  young  eyes  of  hers; 
and  as  I  have  read  I  have  re-written,  and  interleaved,  as  you  see. 
It  may  be  that  they  will  give  warning  to  some  and  encourage- 
ment to  others.  I  don't  mind  confessing  that  to  me  thev  have 
brought  chiefly  a  gay  reminder  of  a  time  when  pretty  little  sub- 
alterns used  to  trip  over  their  swords  to  dance  with  young  ^Irs. 
Perth  Macintyre  also,  which  seems  quite  a  ludicrous  thing  to 
print — and  that  has  been  enough. 

I  think  she  will  avoid  the  graver  perils  of  memsahibship, 
Mrs.  Browne.  I  think  she  will  always  be  a  nice  little  woman. 
George  and  the  baby  will  take  care  of  that.  With  the  moderate 
social  facilities  of  the  wife  of  a  junior  partner  in  Macintyre  and 


?,08       THE   SIMPLE   ADVENTURES  OE  A    MEM  SAHIB. 

Macintyre's,  she  will  not  be  likely  even  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  occasional  all-conquering  lady  who  floats  on  the  sur- 
face of  Anf]^lo-In(lian  society  disreputably  fair,  like  the  Victoria 
I?ogia  in  the  artificial  lake  of  the  Eden  Gardens.  As  to  the 
emulation  of  such  a  one,  I  believe  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  cir- 
cumstances to  suggest  it  to  Mrs.  Browne.  Besides,  she  is  not 
clever,  and  the  Victoria  Ke^ia  must  be  clever,  clever  all  round, 
besides  having  a  specialty  in  the  souls  of  men. 

Nevertheless,  Mrs.  Browne  has  become  a  memsahib,  gradu- 
ated, qualified,  sophisticated.  That  Wtas  inevitable.  I  have 
watched  it  come  to  pass  with  a  sense  that  it  could  not  be  pre- 
vented. She  has  lost  her  pretty  colour,  that  always  goes  first, 
and  has  gained  a  shadowy  ring  under  each  eye,  that  always 
comes  afterwards.  She  is  thinner  than  she  was,  and  has  acquired 
nerves  and  some  petulance.  Helen  Peachey  had  the  cerebral 
placidity  and  good  temper  of  one  of  Fra  Angelico's  piping 
angels.  To  make  up,  she  dresses  her  hair  more  elaborately,  and 
crowns  it  with  a  little  bonnet  which  is  somewhat  extravagantly 
"  chic."  She  has  fallen  into  a  way  of  crossing  her  knees  in  a  low 
chair  that  would  horrify  her  Aunt  Plovtree,  and  a  whole  set  of 
little  feminine  Anglo-Indian  poses  have  come  to  her  naturally. 
There  is  a  shade  of  assertion  about  her  chin  that  was  not  there 
in  England,  and  her  eyes — ah,  the  pity  of  this! — have  looked 
too  straight  into  life  to  lower  themselves  as  readily  as  they  did 
before.  She  has  come  into  an  empire  among  her  husband's 
bachelor  friends,  to  whom  she  will  continue  to  give  gracious  lit- 
tle orders  for  ten  years  yet,  if  she  does  not  go  off  too  shocking- 
ly; and  her  interests  have  expanded  to  include  a  great  many 
sub-masculine  ones,  which  she  discusses  with  them  in  brief  and 
casual  sentences  interspersed  with  smiles  that  are  a  little  tired. 
Without  being  actually  slangy  she  takes  the  easiest  word  and 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEMSAlIlli, 


309 


' 


tlie   shortest   cut — in   India   wo   know   only   tlie   noccssitit's   of 
speech,  wo  do  not  really  talk,  even  in  the  cold  weather. 


SHE   HAS    FALLEN   INTO   A   WAY   OF   CROSSING    HKR    KNEKS   IN   A   LOW   CHAIR 
THAT   WOULD    HORRIFY    HER   AUNT    PLOVTREE. 


Domesticity  has  slipped  away  from  Mrs.  Browne,  though  she 
held  it  very  tightly  for  a  while,  into  the  dusky  hands  whose 
business  is  with  the  house  of  the  sahib.     She  and  young  Browne 


3IO 


THE   SIMPLE  ADVENTURES  OF  A    MEM  SAHIB. 


and  the  baby  coutimio  to  be  managed  by  Kasi  with  a  skill  that 
dt'ceives  them  into  thinking  themselves  comfortable,  and  Helen 
continues  to  predict  with  confidence  that  next  month  there  will 
be  a  balance  in  her  favour  instead  of  Kasi's.  On  the  contrary, 
the  accounts  will  show  that  the  Brownes  have  had  all  they 
wanted  to  eat  and  drink,  that  the  dhoby  has  been  paid,  the  mem- 
sahib  has  had  a  rupee's  worth  of  postage  stamps,  and  there  is 
one  anna  and  six  pices  to  pay  to  Kasi. 

It  was  a  very  little  splash  that  submerged  Mrs.  Browne  in 
Anglo-India,  and  there  is  no  longer  a  ripple  to  tell  about  it.  I 
don't  know  that  life  has  contracted  much  for  her.  I  doubt  if  it 
was  ever  intended  to  hold  more  than  young  Browne  and  the 
baby — but  it  has  changed.  Affairs  that  are  not  young  Browne's 
or  the  baby's  touch  her  little.  Iler  world  is  the  personal  world 
of  Anglo-India,  and  outside  of  it,  except  in  affection  of  Canbury, 
I  believe  she  does  not  think  at  all.  She  is  growing  dull  to 
India,  too,  which  is  about  as  sad  a  thing  as  any.  She  sees  no 
more  the  supple  savagery  of  the  Pathan  in  the  market-place,  the 
bowed  reverence  of  the  Mussulman  praying  in  the  sunset,  the 
early  morning  mists  lifting  among  the  domes  and  palms  of  the 
city.  She  has  acquired  for  the  Aryan  inhabitant  a  certain 
strong  irritation,  and  she  believes  him  to  be  nasty  in  all  his 
ways.  This  will  sum  up  her  impressions  of  India  as  completely 
years  hence  as  it  does  to-day.     She  is  a  memsahib  like  another. 

Her  mother  still  occasionally  refers  to  the  reports  of  the  So- 
ciety for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  that  reach  them  in  Can- 
bury,  and  freely  supposes  that  the  active  interest  her  daughter 
took  in  Indian  Missions  has  increased  and  intensified  in  India. 
In  reply,  Helen  is  obliged  to  take  refuge  in  general  terms,  and 
has  always  discreetly  refrained  from  mentioning  the  prejudice 
that  exists  in  Calcutta  against  Christian  cooks. 


THE   SIMPLE   ADVEXTUKES  OE  A    MEMSAIUH.       3,1 

I  liopo  sho  may  not  stiiy  twonty-tvvo  yoars.  An-Io-In.lia.i 
tissues,  n.atoriul  aiul  spiritual,  are  apt  to  turn  in  twenty-tw(, 
years  to  a  substance  soniewluit  reseniblin;.  e,„-k.  And  I  l„)|,o 
she  will  not  remember  so  many  dead  faces  as  I  do  ul.en  she  <roes 
away-dead  faces  and  pahn  fronds  ^n-ey  witli  the  pow.ler  of'the 
wayside,  and  chimorous  voices  of  the  bazar  crying,  "  y/^r  izl 
iiiemsaltibi  litre  iz  ! ''' 

So  let  us  go  our  several  ways.  This  is  a  dusty  worl.l.  We 
drop  down  the  river  with  the  tide  to-night.  We  shall  not  see 
the  red  tulip  blossoms  of  tiie  silk  cottons  fall  again. 


THE    KND. 


